Ripple in Fate
by Nemonite
Summary: A second Dragon egg appears on the outskirts of Ellesmera. How will a hasty decision impact the fate of Alagaesia? Rated M for any possible language and sexual themes.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: **_**Wyrda**_

**Hey, guys. So, those of you that are following my stories, I'm sorry to announce that I'll be discontinuing any and all other stories, and I may even delete them altogether. They were projects that I undertook, and they ultimately grew stale. But, they were a learning experience, as this story will be. I may finish this story, or I may not. It's always up in the air. **

**For those of you who are just joining us, please understand that this story demands a certain amount of knowledge about the book Eragon and its three sequels. I will not get every little detail right, and there's a good chance that I'm going to make a lot of mistakes, so just point them out when you see them, please.**

* * *

A dim, pulsing light from a deep pit illuminated the confines of a large cavernous room. The room was circular and smooth except for several rows of tiered benches extending outwards along the outer wall. On these benches rested a menagerie of colored gems, shining and reflecting the dull light from the pit.

'_Umaroth'_ whispered a voice, the word bouncing through the consciousness' of all assembled.

'_Has he done it?'_ Asked a second voice in response to the first. This voice held a tone of authority.

A short silence passed. '_There was… a complication. It would seem that our influence was detected. He only had the heart to steal the one.'_

A bristling irritation radiated from a large white gem towards the center of the room. '_Only the one? Which was it?'_

Visions flashed through the consciousness of the one called Umaroth. The first one reflected a wild female dragon, setting a forest ablaze. The next images were of a collection of large gem-like rocks, focusing on one in particular; a magnificently-polished sapphire-blue stone that sat in the middle.

'_Vervada's egg, hmm?' _ Pondered Umaroth, toying with the idea. '_If there are any of us that are capable of toppling the Oath-Breaker, it is one of Vervada's kin. However...'_

The second voice spoke up again. '_Will it be enough? Will one Rider and Dragon suffice?'_

'_No.'_ Umaroth responded grimly. '_Galbatorix killed the best and brightest of our order by himself. With the added power of the Eldunari, there is no single rider or dragon who could hope to stand against him. If only that human had completed his task… Three riders may have stood a chance.'_

'_So then… what now?' _The question reverberated throughout the room, presented to the entire assembly.

'_We cannot sit idly by' _spoke one of the assembled voices; this one seemed younger than the rest.

There was a tone of agreement with the younger voice, though none presented any viable alternatives in response.

A few minutes passed in silence before the younger voice spoke up again. '_Shall we arrange another theft?'_

Umaroth sighed mentally. _'I'm afraid that is not a possibility. Illirea is under martial law, and the remaining Forsworn are on full alert.'_

Another time of silence passed as no other ideas were present. Umaroth turned inwards, wracking his ancient mind for an answer as an idea began to formulate. He opened his mind, sharing his thoughts with the other assembled Eldunari.

A wave of shock echoed throughout the room, followed swiftly by rage.

'_It is not your place to suggest such a thing._' Claimed one of Umaroth's elders, his mind waking from his dream-trance. Similar thoughts began to formulate within the room.

'_Vervada… gave but one to the riders… it is not yours to give…'_ rumbled one of the older Eldunari, his vast consciousness flooding the room as he struggled to formulate the proper words.

Umaroth held his ground, snarling mentally to silence the assembly. _'Enough! I understand the implications, but there is no other choice. All else has failed, and one Rider will not be enough to overthrow the King!'_ he barked, glancing around. _'We must provide an additional egg if we do not want to be stuck in this Vault until the end of time.'_

The elders grumbled with fury at Umaroth's suggestion, the wild dragons in particular bristling at the very idea. _'Being stuck here for eternity would be a better alternative than giving away another's child to the hell of War.'_ Objected the elders simultaneously.

Amidst the chaotic mental struggle, several younger Eldunari began voicing their opinions. '_We agree with Umaroth.' _They said almost in unison, directing their objections at the elders. _'Perhaps you are content to waste away in this cave for eternity, but we are not. We did not get slaughtered by Galbatorix only to allow him to rule over this land forever.'_

And so on and so forth the argument escalated within the dimly-lit room. In the end, it was the elder dragons versus the younger generations. For days the debates raged on, growing fiercer by the day. It was strong enough to rouse the oldest, more apathetic dragons from their slumber_._

After nearly a week of arguing, the chaos subsided. It ended with a vote to determine the outcome. Of the oldest dragons, only a handful still retained enough interest in the physical world to cast a vote. As such, the vote passed with an overwhelming majority of 98 to 12 out of the total of 136 remaining Eldunari, in Umaroth's favor.

An angry grumble of elderly voices dominated the chamber for a moment as the vote was finally tallied, though it died down after several minutes.

Umaroth touched the mods of his fellow Eldunari, his tone gentle and soothing. _'I do not make this decision lightly. It pains me to do this, but I can see no other alternative. We cannot afford to wait for Galbatorix to kill himself or be killed by some arbitrary force that may or may not appear. And even if we could, we may be faced with the same situation as now all the same. We need a rider to maintain balance for the next generation of riders, and Oromis is not well. I sense that his time is dwindling.' _Umaroth declared, a somber tone is his voice. He allowed his mind to probe the large white egg on the lowest tier. _'Any and all hope for our order rests on these two dragons, and their future riders.'_

A chorus of agreement echoed throughout the chamber, and the elders no longer voiced their objections, conceding that they could not change the flow of events.

'_But where will we send it?' asked one of the younger Eldunari again. 'The wards of Du Weldenvarden will prevent such a thing entering their borders, and I don't trust the Dwarves with an egg.'_

'_You're half right_.' Umaroth replied, sighing mentally. '_The wards around Du Weldenvarden will prevent all things from entering through magical means. However, Vrael and I helped shape many of those wards. There are certain measures that can be taken that will allow the wards to falter for a few seconds. We put in this backdoor to allow for just such an emergency, and only we knew of it. Although, I will need a significant amount of assistance to move the egg that distance, as well as make the wards flicker. The timing must be perfect.'_

A murmur of eager hopefulness rumbled through the chamber, and a number of the Eldunari offered their assistance. Even a few of the elders offered their power. Umaroth quickly divided the willing Eldunari into two groups. The first group, led by Umaroth would be dedicated to shutting down the wards. The second would send the egg to the outskirts of the Elven city of Ellesmera when the wards were down.

A vast gathering of power radiated through the room as the two groups readied their respective spells. Umaroth's group started first, funneling their energy into the authoritative Eldunari as he recited the words in the Ancient Language that would lower the barriers around Alagaesia's largest forest.

The second group started pooling their energy at the same time, and the large white egg in the lower tier began to shine brilliantly as one of the Eldunari said a few words in the Ancient Language, causing the egg to disappear in a brilliant orange flash, just after Umaroth released the energy for his spell.

A long silence fell over the group as the energy dissipated.

'_Good luck._' Said Umaroth, as he detected the arrival of the egg outside of Ellesmera.

* * *

A grumble came from a large, old man. He had rapidly graying hair that fell down his back, and an equally large knotted beard that was losing its color in a similar fashion. He was sitting in a wooden chair with a wonderfully soft cushion in an extravagant hall. The walls of the lengthy room were made entirely out of the trunks of trees, and the ceiling was woven of tightly-intertwined branches. On his finger sat a sapphire ring inscribed with an elegant rune of mysterious nature.

Across from the man sat an impassive, stunningly beautiful woman. She had raven-black hair, wore a red tunic and had on a swan-feather cape that ran down her back. She stared at the man intently before speaking. "You've come far, Brom. To think that you of all people would be Morzan's undoing."

Brom snorted, taking a drink from the tea in front of him. "It was necessary." He said, gesturing to the bright blue stone that sat on the table next to him. It shined brilliantly in the light that glinted off its smooth sides.

The woman nodded, glancing at the stone. "It will be taken to the Varden soon. My… daughter…" she spat out the word vehemently "will oversee its guardianship for the foreseeable future."

"Arya is a good girl. You shouldn't be so hard on her, Islanzadi." Brom replied, glancing at the woman's spiteful face.

Islanzadi's eyes flashed dangerously as she stared at the elderly man across from her. "Brom, I've always extended you a certain courtesy that many others do not receive, but do not act as though you know better than me how to raise my daughter."

Brom did not seem surprised, and did not respond directly to her venomous words. "It will be taken back here next year, as agreed?"

"Of course." The woman replied, brushing aside her previous anger. "And, should it hatch for either of our factions, the rider and dragon will be sent to you immediately, as agre-" she was interrupted as a titanic explosion rocked the frame of the building, causing both to jump to their feet, weapons drawn.

By unspoken consent, they both darted out of the building, with Brom carrying the sapphire stone for safety, bounding into the majestic wonder of Ellesmera. A lush, beautiful forest blossomed around them, covering them on all sides with every imaginable shade of green. If one looked close enough, you could see a menagerie of buildings that appeared to be built right into the trees. A pillar of smoke rose from the outskirts of the city.

As they arrived at the source of the explosion, they realized they were not the first to arrive. A cluster of elves surrounded a mid-sized crater. Islanzadi swept between them, eying the crater cautiously as she peered over its edge. Her eyes went wide as she beheld the large, white stone in the crater; its sides gleaming like polished marble. Little cobweb designs skittered across the surface of the stone, colored a light pink hue.

"What in the name of…" Brom muttered, staring at the dragon egg in the crater. His eyes went back and forth from the white egg to the blue one that he held in his arms. "…this… isn't possible." He muttered, frowning. He touched the egg in the crater with a tendril of magic, recoiling as he felt the consciousness of the slumbering dragon inside.

Islanzadi fell to her knees, her eyes watering as she smiled, looking at the egg. "In all my long years, I have never beheld anything that I could so readily call a miracle." She said, sensing the dragon inside with her own tendril of power. "But, I can sense no trickery here. This is a real dragon egg."

Murmurs spread across the small crowd gathered, joyous cheers echoing through them as peals of laughter broke through the ranks of the elves gathered.

"But… where did it come from?" Brom asked, squinting into the dark night sky. "Galbatorix doesn't have a white egg. His were red, green, and blue." He muttered, holding the egg close to his side. "Moreover, how did it get through the wards?"

As if on cue, a bleached-white raven landed on the branch of the tree above them, and let out a coarse shriek. "_Wyrda!_" it called at them, locking eyes with Brom.

Islanzadi delicately picked up the egg as she turned the raven, looking at it curiously. "Do you have something to say, Blagden?"

The raven stared at her in return. "_The tides of fate have changed this day. What once was meant to be is no more. Nothing is certain._" It shrieked. "_One dragon, two dragon; white dragon, blue dragon!" _It cackled before taking off once again, disappearing into the night.

Brom rolled the words over in his mind critically. The second part was certain to be a stupid pun, but the first… "Hmm." He grumbled, glancing at the egg in Islanzadi's arms. "Are you going to send that one to the Varden as well?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Islanzadi nodded, weighing the stone. It was slightly larger than the blue egg, though it was a bit lighter. "That new boy… Ajihad? He'd be in a rage if he ever found out that this egg existed and we didn't share it. It will travel alongside the other." She stated, nodding. She then turned, snapping at a nearby Elf. "Do an immediate perimeter check. Make sure the wards are in place, and figure out why they didn't stop this egg." Islanzadi stated, a hard edge in her voice. "Blessing or not, I want to know why our defenses failed."

Brom rolled his eyes, chuckling. Islanzadi never changed.

* * *

_**Fifteen Years Later – Outskirts of Du Weldenvarden.**_

A mighty blaze erupted in the previously quiet forest. Atop a granite pillar stood a man garbed in black, which was starkly contrasted by his crimson hair and eyes. He grinned, revealing teeth filed to a sharp point, as he conjured up a vast pool of magic, igniting another section of the forest. A towering wall of flame rose up from the ground, creating a ring of fire that encompassed a large section of the forest.

Below the pillar, three horses and two elves lay slaughtered. Arrows pierced them, and their faces were frozen in a mask of deadly determination. The man in black casually hopped down the pillar, strolling over the corpses as he searched for his prey. A gurgled scream of pain from farther ahead caught his ear.

He dashed ahead, his lean body sending him forward at inhuman speeds as he drew his sword, revealing a long razor-thin scratch on the side. He ducked to the side as a large, horned humanoid flew past him, missing its head. _'Useless Urgals.'_ He thought, sneering as he entered the clearing that the Urgal has been thrown from.

A dark-haired woman flung herself through the air with amazing grace, wrapping her legs around the head of an Urgal before twisting her hips, causing the Urgal's neck to twist sharply, cracking from the strain. Her hair fell to the side as she landed, revealing a pair of pointed ears, marking her as an elf. She held a package under both arms, her hands curled around them protectively.

Rolling backwards, she narrowly avoided the sword of the Urgal behind her. Balancing herself on her shoulders, she planted her feet against the Urgal's chest and pushed with a great deal of strength. The Urgal was launched backwards, becoming impaled on a broken tree branch.

Her eyes landed on the crimson-haired man, and all blood drained from her previously flushed face.

The man chuckled, strolling towards her as he smiled. "You know how it is, don't you? If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself." He flicked his sword through the air in front of him, intimidating the elf that was crouched on the opposing side of the clearing.

The elf's demeanor changed instantly, and the cloaked man snarled as he felt her pulling on a great deal of energy. "Oh no you don't!" he sneered, bolting himself forward. A flash of green enveloped the clearing, temporarily blinding the man.

As it faded, two crimson eyes narrowed in fury as the elf collapsed in exhaustion. One of the packages had disappeared in the flash of light. The elf gave a strangled cry as she reached for the second package, tears falling down her cheeks.

The man strode forward, scowling as he eyed the package. The flap of the bag opened, and a large, white dragon egg rolled out, glinting in the light cast by the surrounding fire.

The man froze as he felt another gathering of magical energy. He spun around, his eyes darting to and fro to find the source. He finally eyed the elf, though she seemed just as confused as he did. His eyes flicked to the egg, and they widened as the egg shined brilliantly with an orange outline, before disappearing in a violent burst of orange light.

A cry of rage burst forth from the crimson-haired man as he savagely kicked the elf in her rib cage, cracking a few ribs. She gave a pained gurgle before falling unconscious, a small smile gracing her lips.

A burst of energy flared up around the man as he ignited patch after patch of forest before spinning around, cleaving an entire tree in half with his sword in a fit of rage. He howled, glaring at the fallen elf. With a snarl he picked her up by the back of her collar. He strode forward, dragging the elf along the ground behind him.

* * *

Far away, in the deep wilderness of the Spine, a large explosion rocked the lonely mountains. Hundreds of miles south, near the bustling city of Teirm, in the very same mountain range, another explosion occurred, minutes after the first.

* * *

**Well, there's the prologue. What do you guys think? I'm going to put out the first few chapters as a courtesy, but if it doesn't look like people are interested, I'll let it go.**


	2. Chapter 1: Impact

**Well, here's the first chapter, folks. I got more feedback than expected for the prologue, and if that keeps up, I'll definitely push the story forward.**

**Chapter 1: Impact**

* * *

_Flames rose all around a young child. He stumbled around the blaze, shielding his eyes from the smoke and heat. A part of the blazing building caved in near him, showering him in painful sparks, causing him to yelp in pain. He could hear the clopping of horses outside of his home, and one of the remaining panes of glass broke inwards as a torch was hurled through it, setting a bookshelf ablaze._

"_M-Mom!" the boy choked out, coughing as he stumbled through the burning wreckage, desperately looking for any sign of life. "MOTHER!"_

* * *

A pair of green eyes flashed open as a young man sat up, dark brown hair falling over his forehead, shading his eyes. A sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his eyes, causing his hair to shift, revealing a pair of tapered ears.

"The same dream, Mals?" he asked himself, staring up at the vast expanse of the sky above him. It wasn't really a dream, in the technical sense, however; elves didn't sleep like humans. They merely went into a trance-like state when they needed to recover. They retained most of their awareness while in this state, which had come to Mals' aid many times in the past.

Of course, he wasn't fully an elf, either. Though he was only 18, a rough beard covered his face; a trait which no elf could have. He was a half-breed. His elven traits came from his father, whom had abandoned him and his mother quite early in his life. He had never known why his father had left, nor had his mother ever told him in the brief period they were together after that. Shortly after his father had left, their house had been raided by slavers outside of Teirm. It was only dumb luck that had saved Mals from a lifetime of servitude; his mother had not been so lucky.

Mals shivered, pulling a crudely-made hide jacket around his shoulders, his breath misting as it left his lips. Winter was nearly upon him, and he was dangerously low on food.

His camp was located high up in the wild ridges of the southern part of the Spine, a mountain range that made up the western border of Alagaesia. He was just north-east of a large coastal-city called Teirm. His wilderness camp was lodged in a small valley between two large ridges that came together in a long, narrow V-shape. This was advantageous to him as it allowed him to keep his back to a wall, track any and all wildlife near him, and it also concealed the smoke from his fire in every direction except north, which only held more of the Spine.

His eyes flicked towards a pile of salted meats to the side of his camp. It was enough to get him through a few months, but it would be a very lean winter if he couldn't acquire more. The lack of game this past summer had also kept him from selling much of anything in Teirm. He was completely out of vegetables and fruits of any kind, and his supply of salt was running low.

A lonely howl echoed throughout the valley, and Mals stiffened. The howl was followed by another, closer howl. Several more sounded farther to the north.

Wolves were a constant pain in Mals' side; particularly in the winter months. He had inherited his father's inhuman speed and strength, so they were no real threat to him… but they were prone to stealing his food during the nights.

His fingers slipped around the hilt of a large hunting knife near his bed roll. He quietly wrapped the belt-sheathe around his waist, securing it tightly as he pulled the hide jacket closer around him.

As quietly as he could, he slipped himself up the trunk of one of the many pine trees that grew in the mountain range. The branches were thin, but were able to hold him when he distributed his weight across several of them. He sat motionless in the branches, his sharp eyes darting back and forth, searching for any signs of movement.

He had learned long ago that hunting any nearby wolves was always the worst way to protect his food. As soon as he left the camp, the rest of the pack that he wasn't chasing would swoop in and grab the food while he was gone. He had to wait for them to come to him.

The clouds passed over the moon, shadowing the valley in darkness as the hours passed. Mals crouched perfectly still in the tree, measuring the passing time in his mind as his breathing stayed shallow.

A flicker of movement on the opposite side of the clearing drew his attention. He had to squint to pick it up, but his eyes gradually began to recognize the grey-white fur of the wolves that resided in the Spine. He heard snuffling around the base of the tree he was in, and it took all of his willpower not to jerk his head down at the sound. He very slowly tilted his head down, and saw two more wolves prowling around his tree. Several more wolves appeared several yards around the clearing. They must have spent hours encompassing the campsite. The intelligence of wolves never ceased to amaze him.

He quietly unsheathed his knife, holding it reverse in his hand as he moved into a crouch, eyeing the two wolves below him. He could kill those two almost instantly, but it was a gamble. He almost certainly wouldn't be able to kill the three-plus other wolves that were closing in on his food before they got away; he also didn't have much time to decide.

He hung low over the supporting branches he was in. He had to move in on them now; else they'd get away with his food. His muscles tensed as his breathing slowed, measuring the distance between him and the wolf below him.

An earth-shattering explosion rocked the valley, coming from the near-end of the valley, where the two mountain ridges formed a V.

Mals cursed, falling from his perch by the sudden shift in air pressure. His tree swayed wildly as a gust of wind rushed past it, throwing him from its branches. A twist of his body allowed him to hook the inner part of his knee on a branch, allowing him to nimbly swing forward, grabbing onto a low-hanging branch before dropping to the valley's floor.

A grey-white blur shot past him, yelping wildly as several others followed suit, aiming for the entrance to the valley. Mals eyes spotted a large chunk of salted meat clamped firmly in the jaws of one of them.

"Hey!" he shouted, cursing again as he watched the retreating wolves. He faced the glowing section of the forest at the end of the valley. Plumes of smoke rushed into the air, and he could hear the crackling of flames. Thankfully it had rained two nights ago, so the forest was far too damp to catch fire. Whatever had landed had hit the ground with enough force to immediately evaporate the dampness from the surrounding trees, however.

Staying low to the ground, he crept past his camp, giving a look towards his meat pile. The wolves had probably been scared off for the night, so it was probably safe to leave and investigate.

Crouching low, he wove his way through the underbrush of the surrounding forest. He saw the two mountain ridges coming together on the other side of a small chunk of trees that he was currently wading through. His feet padded silently past the piles of fallen leaves and broken twigs as he covered his eyes from the smoke. The trees around him were charred and scorched, and the force of the explosion had pushed many over.

Mals finally reached the edge of the mountain ridge, and his eyebrows shot up as he scanned the area. The ground around the mountains had been utterly blackened, and the trees had been splintered and toppled, littering a large crater near the mountainside that was almost five feet deep, and almost thirty feet in diameter.

As he inspected the crater, he spotted a glimmer of light from the direct center. He carefully moved closer, edging down the side of the indent as he squinted at the discolored object in the center. Grabbing his knife, he carefully dislodged a medium sized stone that had broken off the ridge and had landed in the crater. His mouth went slack as he eyed an enormous stone, easily larger than his head.

The sides of the stone were the purest shade of white he had ever seen. It reflected light so perfectly that even the dim light from the surrounding fires seemed to blind him. Amidst the snow white stone ran little trails of a light pink, skittering across the sides of the stone.

Mals cautiously tapped the side of the stone with his knife, and he recoiled a little as the stone gave off a high-pitched ring from the impact. His eyes narrowed, realizing that the stone must be hollow.

Sensing no immediate threat, Mals placed the palm on the stone; lightly at first, to sense the temperature. To his surprise, the stone was only moderately warm, and the cold of the surrounding air didn't seem to be diminishing the warmth it gave off. The boy sighed as his hand warmed greatly from the contact.

Mals scooped up the stone, turning it over as he examined it. Never before had he seen such a perfect stone. It was perfectly symmetrical, and was shaped like an oval, with one end tapering off slightly. It actually vaguely reminded him of a chicken egg, due to its color. It was a puzzle, to be sure. It obviously couldn't have formed naturally, and the stone's arrival certainly seemed to support that theory. However, Mals had trouble believing that someone could have carved a stone like this, and then hollowed it out without leaving some form of blemish.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this stone _had_ to be a product of magic in some form or another. He'd only been taught of magic in the most vaguest sense imaginable, but from what his mother had told him, magic was extremely tricky, and fatal should you not heed the limitations of your own body.

He'd always been fascinated by the idea of magic, but had never encountered an actual example of it prior to this. He'd heard of the tales of King Galbatorix's prowess with magic, and had of course known of the Riders, but aside from that, he was very uneducated on the subject.

Tucking the stone into his jacket as best he could, he turned back, suppressing a yawn. Regardless, he needed to get some more rest before morning. He had a long day of hunting tomorrow, and he'd need to be rested for it.

He made it back to his camp shortly, sighing as he briefly took stock of his meat pile. He now only had enough for about two months of lean eating. If he didn't bring back at least several animals within the next few days, he'd starve during the winter.

Banishing the thoughts from his mind, he crawled back into his bedroll, and covered the entrance to his crudely-constructed hut, warming the air mildly. He was amazed to find that the stone was still quite warm to the touch. Mals smiled and pulled the stone close to him as he lay down to 'sleep', sighing contently as the warmth radiated throughout his body.

Little did he know, another boy much farther north had had a very similar night.

* * *

Mals jolted into full awareness as he was struck firmly in his sternum. His eyes flashed open as he looked around, sitting up as he searched for the assailant.

He paused, confused as he looked around, not seeing anything. Peeking his head out of his structure, he saw that it was still early morning; only a few hours after he'd gone to sleep. A soft chirp of sound came from right beside him, and he yelped in surprise, moving away from the source of the noise.

His eyes landed on the large stone he'd been using for warmth. It was now rolling from side to side of its own accord. He realized that it must have been the stone that had hit him. Grabbing his knife, he crouched on the opposite side of his cover, his eyes narrowing as the stone gave off another chirp, louder than the first.

Mals' breathing hitched as the rocking increased, and the chirps gradually became more frequent. The stone glowed very faintly.

Had the stone not been blocking his way out, he'd have dashed out of his cover for fear of whatever may happen to the stone. However, he was forced to watch as the stone wobbled frantically, occasionally acquiring enough force to bump into the air lightly.

An ear-splitting crack echoed through the valley as the stone launched upwards, landing with enough force to cause a large, jagged scar to appear on the smooth surface. A strange squeak echoed from it as it bounced again, causing the crack to widen.

Finally, with a final, titanic effort, the stone split clean in two. The boy watched in wonder as the edges of the stone were pulled apart by a small, ivory claw. He leaned in; his breath caught in his throat as the stone fell apart altogether, revealing a tiny, disfigured creature huddled on top of his bedroll. It had an elongated neck, leading to a head that very much resembled a lizard's, and tiny spines running down its back.

Mals nearly fell backwards as the sides of the creature expanded sharply, and his brain took a minute to recognize just what he was staring at. The boy gazed in wonder, realizing what he was looking at. It wasn't disfigured, as he'd first thought. The odd lumps on the sides of the creature that he'd mistaken for disfigurations were _wings_.

On his bed, cleaning a clear membrane of goo off of its body was a pure white _dragon_.

He moved slightly, dropping his knife immediately as his mouth hung open. The head of the dragon twitched towards him. Two light-pink irises stared back at him; a sparkling, curious intelligence gleaming behind them. It cocked its head at him, and took a step forward. Mals froze as the dragon took slow, deliberate steps towards him.

The dragon sat on its haunches directly in front of him, and looked him in the eye. Mals stared back, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He held up his left hand shakily, moving gently towards the dragon. The creature simply sat there, staring at his hand expectantly. Mals froze as the dragon eyed his hand, his fingers twitching slight.

The dragon appeared to grow impatient, and arch its neck out slowly towards his hand. Mals didn't dare move his hand as the dragon sniffed it experimentally, before arching forward, touching the center of his palm with its snout.

Icy fire shot front the contact point, spreading throughout Mals' body as fast as lightning. With a strangled cry, Mals fell backwards, his back arching as his entire body was set ablaze with a pain more intense than anything he'd ever felt. Before he could mentally prepare himself, the fire moved upwards, seemingly penetrating his very consciousness. He screamed loudly, his eyes rolling back in his head from the intensity of the pain.

For what seemed like hours Mals laid there on the ground, twitching occasionally as bursts of pain streaked his nerves. Finally, the fire began to fade from his veins, starting at his feet. It slowly retracted up his body, before finally dispersing behind his eyes. For several long minutes, he didn't move, afraid of eliciting more pain. Before long, he relaxed, moaning in anguish as he felt the after effects of the pain. His muscles were sore from being so tense for so long, and his head felt like he'd drank an entire barrel of mead.

He froze as he felt something claw up the side of his hide jacket. Looking down, he saw the white dragon perched on his chest, staring at him again. It strode forward with an elegance that wasn't to be expected from a newborn creature. Even though it was smaller than his hand, it was surprisingly heavy on his chest. The dragon sat on his collar bone and leaned forward, touching its snout to his nose. He flinched on reflex, still wary of his last contact with the beast.

Thankfully, there was no pain this time. The dragon tilted its head as if to say 'I told you so'. In a more comforting gesture, it licked his cheek. Its tongue was quite warm, and it scraped against his cheek, though not painfully.

He relaxed considerably, a smile breaking across his face as he reached up gently, touching the side of the dragon with his finger. As the dragon nuzzled his hand, it pushed his finger up, exposing his palm. His eyes went wide as he stared at the oval-shaped, silver spiraling mark that now rested on his left palm. His education of the riders had been fairly lax, but he did know that the largest defining feature of a dragon rider, aside from their mounts themselves, was the distinct silver tattoo that they always had on their palm; the Gedwëy ignasia, as it was called.

It was then that he discovered, quite startlingly, that there was something… different; something different with his mind. He suddenly felt… open to the world around him. As if someone had lifted a curtain around his consciousness. His eyes flicked to the creature in front of him. He could… sense it, in a sense. That is, he could sense the… consciousness of the dragon in front of him.

He reached forward tentatively with him mind, something that he was sure he couldn't do before. He quickly touched the consciousness of the creature sitting on his chest. The dragon purred from deep within its chest as it felt his probing consciousness. The dragon seemed to relish in the connection that they now shared. Even though it didn't show it outwardly, he could sense what could not be mistaken for anything other than pure, unadulterated glee radiating from the creature.

Mals stared stupidly at the dragon in front of him. No matter which way he looked at this situation, he could come to no other conclusion; he was a Dragon Rider now. But how? Why had the egg hatched for him? Why had it landed here? There were a variety of questions that he simply didn't have the answer to. He'd have to head into Teirm soon, and see if he could find anyone that did.

The dragon's alien consciousness interrupted his thoughts, pressing a single, overwhelming feeling into his mind: hunger. For emphasis the dragon gave a small squeak, looking at him.

The boy blinked, pushing himself up as he gently set the dragon down on his bed. Thankfully the wolves hadn't stolen all of his meat. He slipped out of his tent-like structure and grabbed some of his preserved meat. It was slightly frozen from the chilled night air. He put the chunk of meat on a spit and lowered it over the dwindling fire.

After the meat was thawed, Mals tossed some more fuel onto the dying flames and slipped back into his tent. The dragon sat there as it had when it left, sniffing the air hungrily. Mals sat down next to it, tearing the warm chunk of meat in half as he set half of it down on the bed, next to the dragon.

Immediately the dragon tore into the meat, ripping it apart with strength that caught Mals off-guard. Its claws hooked into the meat, tearing at it before it pulled strips off with its jaws.

It didn't take more than ten minutes for the dragon to completely devour the slab of meat that had been half the size of it. With a satisfied purr, it gave a cough-like belch, ejecting a puff of smoke from its maw, before crawling onto Mals' lap, curling up comfortably. The dragon's chest rose up and down rhythmically as it lay down to sleep, and Mals couldn't help but stare at it.

He ate the remainder of the thawed meat, sighing as the food made him sleepy. He lay down on his bed roll, allowing the dragon to sleep on his chest as he went back into his dream-state for the remainder of the night.

* * *

The feeling of weight adjusting itself on his chest brought Mals from his trance. Looking down, he saw the dragon looking at him, its eyes drooping sleepily as it yawned.

Mals yawned in return, stretching his sore muscles as he squinted against the dim light streaming into his tent. As he moved outside, he realized that he had rested a bit longer than he'd wanted. It was easy to think it was earlier than it actually was in a valley like this. Large cliffs blocked his view to the east, so the valley never got much sunlight until mid-day, and the sun disappeared behind the western ridges long before dusk.

Mals smiled at the scaled creature perched on his shoulder. It had its tail wrapped around his neck for support, and would occasionally flare its wings as he walked around his camp, getting ready for the day.

Thankfully, his list of chores for the day was rather small. He had enough fire wood to last him several weeks, and all of his animal traps had been set the week before. All he had to do now was go out and actually hunt.

His mental connection to the dragon was still active, and it gave an excited chirp at the thought of hunting. He quirked an eyebrow as he glanced at it. Had it actually understood the concept?

Shaking off the thought, he pondered what he'd do with the dragon while he was gone. Fear began to gnaw at him as he turned over the possibilities. The Spine held dozens of predatory animals, any of which could easily overpower and kill the dragon right now. His eyes moved upwards, scanning the trees. He could have it hide in the trees… but this valley was known to have hawks scavenging for food this time of year…

A feeling of rejection appeared in his mind suddenly, and it took him a moment to realize that it was the dragon once again. He looked at it, raising his eyebrows. Another feeling of rejection at the idea appeared, and the dragon snorted at him, sending a puff of smoke it his direction.

"You don't want to stay here?" Mals asked. It astonished him that the dragon could understand what he was thinking, even through feelings.

The dragon tilted its head in response, as if confused by his words. It sent the feeling of rejection towards him again, though it seemed to emphasize that it was a feeling.

"Ah." Mals said, understanding. Unsurprisingly, the dragon only had the capacity to understand feelings, not necessarily words. It must have picked up his intentions through their connection.

He blinked, biting his lip as a sudden idea struck him. "I suppose you could come with me…" he muttered. The dragon would certainly be safest with him. At least until it grew large enough to survive on its own against wolves and hawks.

The dragon chirped excitedly, obviously approving of the idea.

Mals sighed, weighing his options. After a few minutes, he decided that the safest course of action would in fact be to take the dragon with him. And hell, when it grew larger, it may even be able to help.

Shaking his head, he packed enough supplies to get him through the day. Since he lived deep in the mountains, he wouldn't have to go far for food. He glanced down at the wolf tracks that littered his camp. Wolves were usually difficult to follow, but they'd left in such a hurry that it probably wouldn't be too hard. Wolf pelts were extremely valuable, and would land him enough money to stock up on salt and vegetables for the winter if he bagged a couple of them.

Again, his thoughts turned to the dragon. Hunting deer would be dangerous enough, but hunting wolves would be incredibly risky for the dragon.

He shook his head, sighing. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. Most, if not all of the deer meat he collected would go to his food stock, and he needed money. The only way to get that is to hunt wolves or bears for their hides.

Putting aside his trepidations for now, he hoisted his pack onto his shoulders. Giving the dragon an affectionate stroke along its spine, he left his camp, making sure to cover his meat pile beforehand.

The trip was, for the most part, uneventful. As he suspected, the wolves left deep, easy-to-follow rivets in the ground as they'd run away. Tracking them was not an issue. The wolves ran clear out of the valley, which was a good three miles away from his base.

The entire time was spent under the unwavering scrutiny of his tiny companion. At first the dragon was confused by the concept of tracking, but as it saw him point out imprint after imprint, it began to recognize what he was doing. Shortly after he left the valley, the dragon began squeaking whenever it spotted a paw-mark in the ground. Often-times it was caused by a completely different animal, but it was an impressive display of observational skills and intelligence nonetheless.

Whenever it would spot a track, Mals would lean down and imagine a picture of the animal that caused it within his mind. As best as he could manage he would impress upon what the animal was good for, and how it behaved. It was tricky at first, and the dragon often acted confused at the impressions, but the dragon gradually began to understand what he was thinking.

Before another mile had passed, the dragon was accurately pointing out wolf tracks while ignoring all others. By noon, it was spotting them even before they had entered Mals' field of vision. Shortly after noon, the pair stopped under the shade of a tree and had a quick lunch before continuing onwards.

An odd sense of pride filled Mals as he watched the dragon squeak. The dragon relished in this feeling, spreading its wings in the wind as it eyed him.

As they rounded a bend, a breeze from the west rolled past them. The dragon stiffened as it caught a scent. Its back went rigid as it hissed, lowering itself down onto Mals' shoulder as its head darted back and forth. Images of the marks around his camp flashed through Mals' mind from the dragon, and the smell that was associated with them.

The boy tensed as he made the connection, pulling out his knife. He could very faintly here the crunching of leaves in the distance. Thankfully they were downwind, otherwise that would have been very unfortunate for him. He glanced up, eyeing the trees. The branches were thick and lofty in this section of the forest.

With all the nimbleness that his heritage allowed, he scaled the trunk of the tree, peering out through the leaves of the low-hanging branches. Sure enough, a grey-white mass was shifting through the bushes not fifty feet away, head low to the ground as it searched for the scent of prey.

To the east, a howl echoed through through the forest. It had come from the direction that Mals had. The boy held in a curse, realizing that whatever wolf was that way had just caught his scent.

The wolf to the west lifted its head, its fur bristling as it heard the howl. It let out a howl in return, and the dragon beside him bristled at the sound. Mals attempted to soothe the dragon with his thoughts, impressing the importance of staying quiet. The dragon was reluctant, but crouched low, relaxing somewhat as it kept its eyes on the wolf in front of them.

The wolf didn't move much. Instead, it patrolled the nearby area, searching for any sign of enemies. Before long, a rustling came from the bushes behind them. Mals held perfectly still, unable to shift without rustling the branch they were crouched on. The dragon turned around at the noise, and Mals was surprised as flashes of images began entering his mind. It was images of a large wolf, crouched in the bushes behind them, sniffing the ground, obviously tracking their scent. The images were hued differently, with reds and pinks standing out, suppressing other colors.

The larger wolf moved forward, snorting impatiently as it whined, searching for the scent near the tree they were hidden in. The first wolf strode forward, its head tilted low as it approached the larger wolf, in an act of submission.

'_The larger one must be the Alpha.'_ Mals asserted, grinning. If he could take out the Alpha, that would severely hinder the wolves' ability to raid his stockpile constantly.

As quietly as he could, he set the dragon on a nearby branch, in perfect view of the two wolves below them. Mals locked eyes with the dragon, impressing upon it the importance of observing what he was about to do. _'Stay here.'_ He urged, making a picture of the branch with the dragon sitting on it obediently.

The dragon bared its fangs at him in obvious displeasure at the feeling, but didn't object.

Content that the dragon would not attempt to jump into the fray, Mals readied his knife as he lurked above the two wolves.

Quick as lightning, Mals dropped from the tree, launching himself at the larger wolf. His foot came into contact with the back of the wolf's neck. His weight threw the wolf down, snapping its neck cleanly against the ground, preserving the hide perfectly.

A snarl and a growl preluded the second wolf's attack. Mals nimbly eluded the wolf's snapping jaws, twisting to the side as the beast leapt through the air. Wrapping his arm around the wolf's outstretched neck, he twisted his body to the side. He planted his feet into the ground as he snapped the animal's neck as cleanly as he could manage.

A sickening feeling welled up inside him as he gazed at the deceased animals. Though it was necessary, he still hated killing animals.

Feelings of cheer and jubilation intruded on his mind as a loud squeak filled the air. Gazing up, he chuckled as the dragon glided down from its perch, landing gracefully on his shoulder. The dragon nuzzled his neck as it chirped, obviously happy with his work.

Mals grunted as he leaned down, holding the Alpha by the scruff of its neck while he scooped the smaller wolf under his arm. Normally he'd skin them on the spot, but he figured that he could bring back the flesh and bones for the dragon to eat. The colder temperature would probably keep the flesh untainted by rot long enough for the dragon to eat it all.

It had taken the better part of the day, but he was happy with his accomplishment. These two alone would score him enough money to buy all the supplies he'd need for winter, if he skinned them correctly.

Humming happily to himself, he started the trek back to camp. The dragon squeaked happily the whole way, humming pleasantly along with him.

* * *

**I'd hoped to get this chapter up sooner, but I hadn't anticipated how slow this chapter would be. The first few of them are probably going to be slow as I detail the dragon's growth, both mentally and physically.**

**Next chapter, Mals makes a trip into Teirm to buy supplies for the upcoming winter. **

**Also, the first thing you will probably notice is that this dragon hatched MUCH sooner than Saphira. However, I have never seen any reason to believe that all dragons take weeks to hatch after they've found their riders. Remember that the Varden and the Elves would parade the eggs in front of lines of children in an attempt to get them to hatch, so obviously hatching doesn't require weeks of contact with whomever the dragon hatches for. This timeframe simply fit better for me, as I don't want to waste your time essentially re-writing what happened with Eragon. In this sense, Saphira will be almost a month this dragon's junior.**

**Anyways, until next time! I'll try and keep chapters at least this length, if not longer.**


	3. Chapter 2: Inquisitions

**Well, here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter 2: Inquisitions**

* * *

Mals smiled happily as he stared at the rack of pelts he had lined along his camp. Beside them, covered by a thin fabric was a pit filled with venison that was currently being salted with the remainder of his salt. A light dusting of early-winter snow covered the campsite

The last month of hunting had been quite profitable; certainly more so than normal, thanks to his newest hunting partner. A light rumble came from behind him, causing Mals' smile to widen. Turning, he faced the- _his_ dragon, as it sat on the ground, staring at him expectantly.

No longer was it a small, defenseless creature. In the first week the dragon had more than doubled in size, and had taken to flying around the forests instead of resting on his shoulder. After two weeks, its shoulders were higher than his knees, and after four it could look him level in the eye if it stood at full height.

Mals smirked and leaned down, grabbing a large chunk of venison. He tossed it in the air towards his dragon, which caught it in turn with a snap of its jaws. Thanks to the help of his partner, he'd pulled in more than double the usual amount of game. The dragon was a master of hunting, and was able to track and kill deer within minutes of locating their trail. It got to the point that Mals actually had to stop the dragon from bringing the food back to store, lest they end up wasting any.

His dragon tore into the chunk of meat with its razor-sharp claws. Its glistening, white scales reflected the light from the snow beautifully, seemingly illuminating the very air. He couldn't help but stare at them. Wolves no longer troubled them, either. The last time they'd tried, nearly half their pack had been eliminated. One of wolves had bitten Mals in the confusion, and this had sent his dragon into a frenzy. It tracked them across the mountain range for the better part of two days, bringing back a new pelt with each kill.

Mals sighed as he sat on a stump, watching the gleaming fangs rip apart the meat. One thing that did bug him was the fact that he still had yet to determine what the gender of his dragon was. He knew they had genders, and he knew that the dragon probably knew, but he had no idea how to ask it.

Moreover, he hadn't thought of a name. Well, he'd had a few possibilities float through his mind, but without knowing the dragon's gender, giving it a name seemed wildly inappropriate.

He leaned back, wincing as he felt a flake of snow land on his cheek. It melted quickly and trailed down his cheek. Dark grey clouds littered the sky above them, and they only seemed to get darker to the west.

The first blizzard of the season was nearly upon him. He'd have to make the trip into Teirm today, lest he risk being separated from society for all of winter.

He glanced at his dragon, which had just finished the chunk of meat he'd thrown. He touched its mind again and sighed pleasantly at the contact. His dragon always enjoyed touching minds with him as well. It still couldn't communicate with words, though Mals wondered if that wasn't because it simply didn't want to. Earlier in the month, he'd only been able to communicate through feelings, but lately the dragon had understood even his more complicated worded requests.

This was due largely because of the mental lessons Mals had given the dragon. He would often spend hours of the day showing pictures of plants and animals with words attached to it through their connection. After a few days, it began to associate those plants and animals to the words attached.

'_I need to go into Teirm today._' He said through their mental connection. Unsurprisingly, the dragon didn't act even mildly confused by his words. Quite to the contrary, it bristled at the idea. It already knew that it couldn't follow him into town, and it very much disliked the idea of being separated from him for any amount of time. Prior to the accident with the wolves, his dragon hadn't been so adamant about being near him constantly. Afterwards, it rarely left his side.

'_No.'_ came the reply from the dragon.

Mals blinked, almost tripping over his pack as he went to scoop it up, whirling around as he faced his dragon. '_You spoke!'_ he almost shouted over his mental connection, his eyes wide.

The dragon gave him a flat stare, but did not reply. Its light pink irises never left his own.

The boy tilted his head, biting his lip. This was far beyond anything he'd ever expected from his dragon. Understanding was one thing, but this was intelligence that was rapidly rivaling his own. He sure as hell hadn't been able to formulate words at 30 days of age.

Mals sighed again. '_Regardless, I have to go into Teirm. We need money for more food and salt.'_ He said, trying to make the white dragon understand.

The dragon snorted, jerking its head over to the pit that currently housed their stock of venison. A flash of images of the open pit went through his mind, specifically focusing on the meat and salt.

Mals rolled his eyes. The dragon's reasoning was fine for itself, but even an elf can't live solely off meat. As a half-breed, he'd need more nutrients than the average elf, as his body didn't produce energy the same way as a true elf. His muscles required much more sustenance than a normal human's, and that included the fruits and vegetables that he couldn't grow in these mountains.

The dragon just continued giving him a flat stare, regardless. Mals knew it had understood what he'd said, but it obviously just didn't care.

Heaving his pack onto his shoulders, he shook his head. "Look, you can follow me… all the way to Pike's Point, alright?" he said verbally, looking at the dragon in front of him. Pike's Point was a narrow gorge about 2/3rds the way down the mountain range. After that was a gentle, 5-mile slope that led to the coast. It was named as such to indicate the last point of safety for anyone wanting to travel into the Spine.

A series of images flashed through his mind, showing his dragon escorting him clear to Teirm.

He shook his head. "No. I need you here. If our food gets stolen by animals while I'm gone, we'll starve during the winter." He impressed the importance of the dragon guarding their food. "I won't be gone longer than… two days. I promise." He said, touching his dragon's neck. The white scales were rough against his fingers.

His dragon leaned forward, touching its snout to his nose. It was clearly displeased with this, but it understood the importance, nonetheless. '_Be safe._' It said, staring at him.

Mals shivered as he locked eyes with it, his finger trailing along the underside of its neck. The scales along its underside were the same color as its eyes, and were much smoother. '_I will.'_ He replied, giving his dragon a light hug, carefully avoiding the long spikes along its back.

The embrace ended after a few minutes, and the dragon took off into the air as Mals turned towards the exit of the valley. He checked that he had all of the pelts and other valuable animal parts tucked away in his pack before setting into a comfortable jog.

Despite the fact that Mals was easily jogging faster than any human could sprint, his dragon had no problem keeping up. Its wings beat tirelessly above him, and each flap would cause a dull 'thud' to echo across the valley. It wouldn't be much longer before his dragon would be large enough to ride. Its growth spurt had slowed down considerably, but it was now nearly as big as a horse.

Mals' exited the valley less than 5 minutes after setting out on his run. His increased stamina and speed allowed him to cover large distances in a short amount of time. His record for getting from his camp to Pike's Point was just over four hours. It took another two hours from there to get to Teirm.

About three hours later, the sun was halfway across the sky. Mals ate while running, throwing a few pieces up to his dragon. Not long after that, he reached Pike's Point. His dragon had flown ahead and found a place to land between the trees. As he approached the gap, his dragon came bounding out of the forest, approaching him. They exchanged another short goodbye, and Mals offered it another slab of meat. The dragon shook its head, nudging the meat back towards him before taking off into the air again.

Mals sighed, bursting back into his superhuman jog as he dashed between the ridges of the gorge. Behind him, he could sense his dragon hovering in the sky, his eyes never leaving him as he weaved through the mountain gorge. Eventually he left the dragon's field of vision, but the dragon still hovered there. The mental connection that they shared became more strained as the distance between them increased. After Mals had gone the five miles to the coast, he could barely feel his dragon's thoughts. Another five miles, and the presence had disappeared altogether.

The boy shivered at the vacancy that surrounded him. He felt so exposed without the comforting mind of his dragon so close. He instinctively retracted his mind from the world, back into the relative safety of his own consciousness.

Before long, the towering walls of Teirm appeared as a faint dot on the coast line. Mals stopped and dug through his pack, pulling out a long strip of green-colored leather. Placing it against his forehead, he pulled it back across his head, strapping the ends together behind his head. The leather headband covered his pointed ears, and for good reason. He also slipped on a pair of leather gloves.

Elves did not exist within the Empire. Mals did not know where his brethren were hiding, but he did know that one hadn't been seen within the Imperial territories for almost a hundred years. They were so rare in fact that any slaver that got their hands on one would likely be given riches beyond his wildest imagination. Should he be discovered, he'd be sold into slavery, and then sent directly to Urû'baen to be tortured for information. This was the largest factor in regards to why he lived in the wilderness.

He slowed his pace considerably as he came into eyesight of the guards. He rounded the wall of the city, trying to remain inconspicuous as he approached the main gate of the city that led to the main road to Urû'baen.

"What's your business in Teirm today?" asked a rather friendly guard as he approached the open gate.

Mals smiled and slowly took off his pack, opening it and showing the contents. "Time to sell my haul from the summer." He replied.

The guard nodded to his partner. "Right. Don't cause any trouble, son. We'll be watching."

Mals nodded in return, strolling through the gate, gazing around. It had been nearly a year since he'd last set foot in Teirm. Naturally, he didn't come here often, nor did he stay very long. Teirm usually had a good supply of shops to sell to, and he could usually pawn off most of his wares before he had to leave.

First thing's first, he had to get some money for a room at an inn. Taking a stroll to the trading section of the city, he began scanning the shops and stalls. After a short hour, he found a trader willing to buy half of his wolf pelts. The trader offered him an amount that was largely a rip-off, but Mals made the trade regardless. He had enough products to be generous this year.

Over the next three hours, he bargained with the various traders. He found much better deals for the remainder of the pelts, leaving him with the miscellaneous pieces of the wolves, such as the claws and fangs. He also had a few antlers with him.

Unfortunately, nobody seemed interested in buying any of these for any aesthetic purpose. Mals grew continuously more frustrated as he went from stall to stall, but he continued to get the same response. Nobody had the money to buy them this year. He got a reference to an herbalist's shop higher up in the city, but brushed it aside.

Defeated, Mals let out a sigh. He returned to the first inn he had spotted on his way to the trader shops.

Mals pushed the door open, sliding inside as he went to the innkeeper, slapping a few crowns on the counter. "I need a room." Mals said, eyeing the selection of drinks, "Also, I need a drink. Get me a flagon of beer." Normally he wouldn't drink on a trip like this, but it had been a long day and a long year. He felt that he deserved one.

As he listened in on the conversations around the inn, he was surprised to hear that the Empire was in a state of turmoil. Tales of Urgals migrating from the Spine and wandering haphazardly throughout the Empire littered the inn.

The innkeeper scooped up the amount of money he'd put on the counter, handing him a key before setting a large container of beer on the counter. "You're the second on the right upstairs." The innkeeper said.

Mals nodded, and downed his drink with a speed that clearly surprised the innkeeper. The boy coughed, grimacing as he turned away. The drink was powerful, but not particularly good. Trudging upstairs, he unlocked his door. He closed and locked the door behind him before collapsing on the bed. He watched as the sun dipped below the sea-horizon outside his window.

Shaking the leather pouch that held the money he'd collected today, he smiled. He'd accumulated much more than he'd originally thought. He almost had enough for two years' worth of supplies. There would be some leftover for next season, which was a rare occurrence.

Brushing the thought aside, he closed his eyes, sighing as he slipped into his dream trance.

* * *

Mals opened his eyes slowly, squinting a little from the change in lighting. He sat up and stretched, peering out the window. His eyebrows rose a bit as he saw the sky beginning to light up. He must have been resting for nearly ten hours.

He hopped out of bed, and did a small exercise to stretch his muscles. He sighed pleasantly as his joints popped.

Gathering up his things, he slipped out of the Inn and tossed the innkeeper a small tip. This would be his last day in Teirm, and he needed to find a buyer for these wares as well as buy the supplies he needed.

He wandered the streets once more, thinking on what he had heard last night in the Inn. Urgals occasionally showed up across the Empire, but never in such numbers as to be considered a _migration_.

As he walked through the higher tiers of the city, he vaguely remembered the herbalist reference he'd received before. He didn't enjoy the prospect of selling these to an herbalist, as he would have to sell them for much cheaper, but he didn't see an alternative. He wouldn't have room to carry these materials back with him.

He vaguely remembered where the man had directed him to. He stumbled around the city, looking in the general area that the man's directions had taken him. He smiled as he finally spotted a small shop wedged between two buildings. The shop had a number of rare and exotic plants hanging from the window sills, and he could spot a pestle and mortar inside on one of the tables through the open door.

Holding his bag of animal parts tight, he strode up to the door. He peeked inside, looking for any sign of a shop keeper. "Hello?" He called out. "I've got some wares that I'd like to sell."

The inside of the shop was covered in plant life. Foliage hung from every surface including the ceiling, where it wrapped around an old-looking chandelier. Scrolls lined the shelves on the walls.

As he glanced around, he noticed an enormous black, shaggy-haired cat resting peacefully on a sun-lit table. It stared at him with two bright-red eyes.

Mals frowned, looking around. "I don't suppose you know where your owner is, do you?" he asked, chuckling to himself as he walked into the shop.

'_I have no owner.'_ Came the curt reply, causing Mals to screech to a halt, mid-step.

He turned shakily, staring at the cat which was now cleaning its paw. "You can talk." Mals said, pointing stupidly at the cat.

'_Tell me something I don't know.'_ replied the cat, glancing at him. It appeared to be quite intelligent, contrary to his original assumption.

Mals yelped as he felt a sharp jab at his consciousness from the animal in front of him. '_I am not an '_it'._'_ The cat remarked, giving him an annoyed look. '_I am male.'_

The boy recoiled from the contact, but the cat held onto his consciousness, not allowing him to retract into his own mind. "F-fine." Mals said, somewhat fearful of the animal in front of him. "What's your name?" he asked tentatively.

'_You wouldn't understand even if I told you._' The cat said, going back to cleaning its paws. '_You may call me Solembum for convenience.'_

"Okay, Solembum…" Mals started slowly, "Do you know where the owner of this shop is?"

'_Yes._'

Mals stared at Solembum expectantly. After several minutes, he frowned in annoyance, realizing the cat wasn't going to say anything more. "Well?" he finally prodded.

"He won't tell you where I am because you never asked him where I was!" came an exasperated voice from behind him.

Mals whirled frantically, his hand moving to his knife instinctively as he faced the person who had snuck up on him. He blinked as he spotted a young woman standing behind him. She had curly brown hair that bobbed slightly whenever she moved. She raised an eyebrow as he turned around, and her eyes flicked briefly to the cat behind him.

"Well, I can't say that I've ever seen a human move that fast." She said matter-of-factly. Faster than he could react, her hand shot out, and pulled up his head band.

Mals twitched, but did not otherwise react as she revealed his pointed ears. His hand tightened on the hilt of his dagger, but was caught off guard as the woman giggled. "My, my. That's not something you see every day. A half-breed is indeed a rare sight. How curious." She chortled, glancing back at Solembum. "Solembum says that you talked to him as well."

Mals nodded rigidly, his muscles tense as a strung bowstring. He pulled the headband back down over his ears, staring at the woman in front of him.

The woman sighed. "Oh, you can relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Angela."

"You could be lying." Mals said stiffly, backing up slightly.

Angela rolled her eyes, before uttering several words in a language that Mals didn't recognize. The words held… power within them, and he felt compelled by them, somehow. He tilted his head in confusion, which seemed to catch the herbalist off-guard. "Hah! An Elf that doesn't speak the Ancient Language! I never thought I'd see the day."

The Ancient Language! Mals' eyes widened as he recognized the 'name'. He of course knew what the Ancient Language was. It was the language used in magic, and was said to be the actual source of magic. If the rumors were to be believed, someone could not lie in the Ancient Language. Though he couldn't directly understand the words, he felt the meaning behind them; she meant him no harm.

"Ah, but you know what it is, at least." Angela continued, reading his expression masterfully as she chuckled. "You're a strange one, to be sure." She walked around her shop, rearranging a few items idly. "Now… what can I help you with, my ignorant friend?" she asked, leaning on the counter.

Mals shuffled a little, putting his bag on the counter as he glanced at Solembum, who was staring intently at him. "I um, I need to sell these supplies, and I heard you might buy them."

Angela nodded, rifling through his pack as she gathered a handful of the claws and fangs that lay strewn across the bottom. "These are in fairly good condition. The large ones… they must have belonged to an Alpha male, yes?" she asked, gesturing to the larger set of claws and fangs.

Mals nodded, sitting on a stool as he watched the curious woman in front of him. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him not to trust her, he couldn't help but be at ease around her. The words she had spoken in the Ancient Language reverberated through his mind, systematically erasing any rising doubts.

"Mm. He must have been a monster to have claws like this…" she muttered, scraping a bit of the claw into a dish, which she studied closely. "I'll give you… a crown for each article of the Alpha's, and half a crown for each of the rest." She muttered, gesturing at the claws and fangs. "I'll even toss in two crowns for the antlers." She added.

Mals blinked in surprise; he'd expected a much lower offer. "Deal." He said quickly, before she could retract the offer.

She tossed a few coins on the counter, which he scooped up happily. He then emptied the rest of the contents of his bag onto the counter, allowing her to take them away. He made a move to leave, when she cleared her throat in an attempt to get his attention.

He turned, glancing at her cautiously.

"Would you allow me to read your fortune?" she asked curiously, holding up a small bag. "Normally I don't do this, but only a handful of people have ever had the capacity to talk to Solembum. They usually make for interesting tales."

"Surely you're joking." Mals said, eyeing her flatly. "I'm a lot of things, Miss, but gullible is not one of them." He jerked a finger towards her crystal ball. "I know those things are a hoax."

Angela chuckled darkly, rattling the bag. "Of course the crystal ball is just for show. The real magic… comes from these." She emptied the bag into her palm, showing several large bones. "These… are the knuckle-bones of a dragon."

A chill swept through Mals as he gazed at the bones. They radiated a sense of power that was quite impossible to fake.

"I… don't think so." Mals mumbled, repressing a shiver. "Even if it's not a hoax... I have no desire to know my own future." His palm itched as he gazed at the bones, causing him to scratch at it out of habit. This was not missed by the herbalist.

Angela smirked, but piled the bones back into the bag. "Very well. It's not for the faint of heart, either way."

Mals ignored the jab, and looked her in the eye. "Where did you get those?"

"Oh, I found them growing in my garden some years ago. Dragons are such fascinating creatures, aren't they?" she quipped, smirking at him. The remark was obviously meant to be a joke, but it caught Mals' attention.

"What part of them do you find to be most fascinating?" he asked innocently, leaning against a desk. He needed answers, and she seemed to have some knowledge of the mysterious, if nothing else.

Angela laughed loudly, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the shop. "I'm not sure I could answer you honestly, there. I don't know what I find the _most_ fascinating about dragons, but I've always found their impact on their surroundings to be most intriguing." She said, gesturing towards the knuckle-bones. "That and their inherent aptitude towards magic, of course."

Mals frowned in annoyance. He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose, but she was being extremely vague. "Do you know if the bones came from a male or female dragon?" he asked again. "I mean… there weren't many ways to distinguish them, were there?"

This question caught Angela's attention. Her sharp eyes flicked up to his, and for a second he thought she'd caught on to his little game. Then she smiled, rattling the bones. "I do not know the gender of the dragon from which these were taken. As for distinguishing dragons, the best and only way was to simply ask them." She said.

"Did you name them in a similar manner?" Mals inquired, pushing his luck somewhat.

"If you'd been intelligent enough at the time of your birth to name yourself, would you let someone else do it for you?" asked the herbalist in return. She gave him a curious expression.

"I suppose not, no." Mals responded, tilting his head thoughtfully. He shifted uneasily under her stare, moving towards the door. "I should go." He said, turning around. "Thank you for your time."

Angela smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Not at all. Feel free to return if you have any further… questions." The way she said it gave him the uneasy feeling that she had deduced more than she had let on.

He slipped out of the shop, closing the door behind him as he shuddered. That woman unnerved him greatly, but she was a surprisingly good source of information. If what she said was true, then all he had to do was ask his dragon his/her name and gender, and it should know it. Admittedly, he'd never thought to ask it so bluntly, as he didn't think it would understand the concept. Lately, he was beginning to realize just how foolish that assumption really was.

He glanced up, frowning as he saw the sun heading swiftly towards the horizon. How long had he dawdled in that shop? Surely it couldn't have been that long already… right? He grimaced as he saw a looming wall of clouds low on the horizon. They were pitch black, and looked to be full of water. It wouldn't take much longer than a few hours to reach land, and it would coat his valley in snow, to be sure. He had to leave soon if he wanted to beat it back to his camp.

Quick as he could without appearing conspicuous, he weaved his way back down to the trading wharfs. He grabbed himself two large bags of salt, and a sack of assorted fruits and vegetables that could be stored without immediately going bad.

The ever-present wall of clouds loomed closer, and Mals bit his lip as he moved through the crowds, headed to the main gate. As he neared the gate, he burst into a sprint, getting many odd glances from the passing pedestrians. It must have looked quite fantastic; an 18 year old boy sprinting with nearly 80 pounds of salt and vegetables with no sign of fatigue from the load.

He slowed to a walk as he passed the guards at the front gate. They gave him a passing warning that the gates would be closing soon, which he paid no mind. His sharp eyes swiveled to the right as he darted out the gate, and they narrowed as he saw Solembum sitting on the main wall of the city, watching him leave. It occurred to Mals that he had never asked about _why_ Solembum could talk. Angela had taken him so off-guard through the entire conversation that he'd never thought it prudent to ask.

He heard a low rumble from the west as the storm system moved ever closer. The coastal landscape appeared to go into twilight as the sun passed behind the clouds, throwing the world into darkness.

Mals burst into a full sprint. His feet kicked up the scattered bits of sand strewn across the coastal field as he dashed to the north. The storm was coming in much faster than he'd originally estimated. If he didn't get back to his camp before it hit, freezing to death was a frightening possibility.

He reached out desperately with his mind as he neared Pike's Point. He felt… something with his mind, behind him. It was a large consciousness; nearly as large as his dragon's… but it was definitely different… though familiar at the same time. He turned around, his eyes scanning the area behind him. Nowhere could he spot anything that looked intelligent. The consciousness had also retracted from his own, disappearing entirely when he tried to search for it.

Shaking off the thought, he dashed into Pike's Point as fast as he could, reaching out for his dragon's mind again. If he could have it fly his supplies back to camp, he could probably make it all the way back before the snow started falling. At this rate… he wouldn't make it halfway.

All he sensed was an empty void around him. He flew from the gorge with a speed that a horse would be hard-pressed to match. His body weaved through the lush forest that grew around him. His camp was another 10 miles into the mountain range. He blinked as he saw a flash of movement to his right. He paused, stopping in mid sprint as he glanced through the underbrush, though he couldn't hear or see anything. Shaking off his paranoia, he burst into motion once more. His breath came out in ragged breaths from the extended run, and immediately misted in the freezing air.

All at once he felt the comforting, familiar presence of his dragon touch his own. A wave of relief and joy radiated from him, and the feeling was mirrored by his partner. '_Come to me!'_ Mals urged, glancing back at the storm clouds. They were directly above him now.

'_I'm coming… Mals.'_ Came the reply. The half-breed was stunned by the articulation of the reply, as well as the fact that the dragon understood his name.

A burst of wind from behind buffeted Mals, nearly causing him to trip over an exposed root. Almost immediately afterwards, snowflakes began to drift from the sky. The elf recovered his sense of balance as he burst forward through the forest. He felt a pang of frustration from his dragon as the burst of wind arrived at it.

Before long, Mals began to hear the steady 'thud' of wing-beats over the howling wind. The snow was coming down in heavy drifts now, coating the ground around him. It was almost up to his ankles by the time the gleaming white scales of his dragon came into sight. The powerful creature pumped steadily forward, battling the wind even as a turbulent stream of air caused it to flip in mid-air, nearly sending it hurtling into a tree.

Mals dashed forward as the dragon landed heavily in front of him, struggling to fold in its wings against the wind. With help from Mals, it finally managed to pin them to its body, groaning from the effort.

The boy shivered as a new torrent of snow came down, covering him in more of the frozen liquid. He quickly tied half of his supplies to the heavy spines along the dragon's back, sighing in relief as the burden was lifted from his own body.

Together the boy and dragon trudged through the nearly knee-high snow. The only benefit was that the wind was to their backs, giving them extra force as they moved. Mals frowned as he attempted to scout out any identifying structures in the whirling blizzard. His fingers shook from the cold as he looked back and forth, though he was unable to discern anything.

'_I know the way.'_ His dragon asserted confidently, taking the lead. Mals was far too tired and far too cold to dispute its claim, so he simply followed it, making sure to walk close by.

Tremors ran down the boy's body, and his fingers had turned a pale blue color. His eyes became heavy as he pushed through the blizzard, and he had long since lost the feeling in most of his extremities. Just as he felt he was about to collapse, he found his weight supported by the powerful neck of his partner. Its scales blended in seamlessly with the surrounding blizzard, and he had to hang onto it, lest he lose track of where he was. '_Get on.'_ It said, positioning itself near him.

Mals was far too tired to argue, and he heaved himself onto the back of his dragon. Despite the freezing conditions around them, his dragon was hot to the touch in contrast to his numbed fingers. He wrapped his arm around its neck and leaned against its neck and shoulders as best as he could without impaling himself on a spike. Warmth began to seep into his frigid body.

Mals allowed his eyes to droop, and he slowly let his mind drift into a trance. Now that he was out of immediate danger, he could focus on resting while his partner brought him to safety.

Within an hour they had successfully navigated their way back to the valley. Due to the westward ridge of the valley, it was largely protected from the bulk of the snow. There were only a few inches on the western edge of the valley, and thus his dragon was able to walk in relative comfort back to their camp.

As they approached their camp, Mals roused himself from his trance, feeling moderately rejuvenated. He lowered himself off of his dragon, and made his way to his tent. Though it was a crude structure, he had built it in accommodation to the harsh weather of the Spine, and as such, it had not collapsed, as the snow merely built up around it, never building up on top.

The pale-pink wing of his dragon blocked his path, and he looked back at it, questioningly. '_You will not sleep there tonight._' It said without a trace of compromise. Mals watched, fascinated as the dragon turned around, and with a sweep of its tail, cleared a patch of earth of all snow. It then laid down, and gestured him over with a nod.

Tentatively, he stepped forward and sat down in the cleared circle of earth. He watched in awe as the dragon extended its wing out and over him, covering him like a tent. The air warmed up immediately, and Mals grinned as the dragon slid its head under its wing, staring at him with a large, pink eye.

It immediately occurred to Mals that he still did not know his dragon's name or gender.

'_Vivia.'_

The name rang like a bell throughout Mals' mind. It resonated within him, and he turned towards his dragon, smiling widely. "So… you must be female then, yes?" he asked. Vivia's eye sparkled as she nodded, nuzzling him with her snout.

It was as if he was viewing her in a new light. Never before had he regarded her as anything more than an animal. Now… now he realized that she was easily as intelligent as him; perhaps even more so.

"Vivia…" Mals muttered, leaning against her side. "… I like that name…" A feeling of happiness cascaded through him as he lay next to her. It was as if something had been missing in his life, and she had filled it. He felt a similar feeling come from the majestic creature next to him, and she rumbled with approval.

Darkness enveloped him as he closed his eyes, blissfully unaware that two bright-red eyes watched the two from the side of their camp.

* * *

**Holy, cow. That was an annoying chapter. I woefully underestimated the amount of thought I'd need to put into each chapter to make it not… suck.**

**Also, I'd like to mention that typos are going to be inevitable in my stories. Beta'ing your own story is probably the worst thing a writer can do, and naturally some of the mistakes are going to slip through the cracks. I just don't like handing out my rough drafts to other people, as I'm a very impatient person and I don't like to wait on other people. Also, I apologize for run-on sentences. There will probably be a lot of them, given the amount of describing I'm going to have to do.**

**Anyways, read and review. Your input is what keeps me going, and I very much appreciate it. Any ideas and suggestions are ALWAYS welcome. I have a very rough idea of how this story is going to go, but the finer details are still up in the air. For instance, a plausible love interest for Mals is still on the table. I'd need a plausible circumstance for them to meet, and a plausible reason for her to stay with the action for the majority of the story. I don't expect any real ideas until I actually show what the plot is going to look like, but feel free to pitch rough ideas. (Also, please try to make it elf or human. Dwarf or Urgal would just be… weird.)**


	4. Chapter 3: Why do you fight?

**Hey, guys. Time for Chapter 3!**

**Now, to answer a review, I'm actually not going to put him with Angela, for several reasons; one of which will be revealed in this chapter. Aside from that, Angela is **_**old**_**. To give perspective, in the books, Angela is considered an adult by **_**elf**_** standards. Arya is still young by those same standards, and she's at least a century old.**

**As for Vivia's gender… yeah. I was tempted to make her male originally, but EVERY SINGLE LIVING DRAGON in the series is male **_**except**_** Saphira. She is the only living female. It was so lopsided that I couldn't in good conscience make her a male.**

**Chapter 3: Why do you fight?**

* * *

Two green orbs appeared underneath two moderately rested eyelids. Mals stared blankly at the expanse of light-pink above him, his mind trying to understand what he was seeing prior to his body responding to it.

He blinked and looked to the right, recognizing the shape of Vivia's chest rising and falling rhythmically as she slept. His mind put it together quickly after that, and he smiled as he shifted slightly and moved to a more comfortable position. His muscles groaned in protest as he stretched, angry at him for resting on the rough ground. He'd have to see if he could incorporate a bedroll into Vivia's new sleeping arrangement.

Dim light streamed through her wing, covering his body in a pale red hue.

The boy sighed as his mind went through yesterday's events. He'd cut it really close yesterday. If he'd left Teirm even an hour later, he'd have frozen to death before Vivia'd found him. He ground his teeth in frustration. Living in seclusion was convenient for hunting and hiding his heritage… but it was wildly impractical for acquiring information on a nearly-extinct race of flying lizards.

'_Why not live closer to Teirm?'_ asked Vivia, who had just woken up. She slipped her head under her wing, nudging his arm playfully for calling her a lizard.

Mals chuckled, rubbing her snout affectionately as he tossed the idea around. '_I used to.'_ He admitted, skimming through the memories, '_I was so far from food that I nearly starved that winter, though.'_

Vivia lifted her wing, letting in the full light of the day as she gestured across the camp. '_I don't see food being a problem.'_

Mals squinted against the bright light. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that she was referring to the towering pile of salted venison. His jaw slackened slightly as he realized she was absolutely right. Vivia could fly fast enough that being located near food would no longer be an issue for them. Mals bit his lip, standing up as he paced across the camp, mulling over the idea. '_There are a few places lower down in the Spine that don't get nearly as cold… and I'd only be about a half hour from Teirm.'_ He thought to himself. The only problem, of course, was being found through the trails of smoke his camp would leave. It wouldn't be visible from the city itself, but anyone walking north along the coast would surely spot it.

'_Only during the brightest days.'_ Vivia asserted, standing up. '_At night, the smoke would be high enough that it would blend in with the dark sky.'_ The dragon stretched similarly to a cat, arching back as her claws dug rivets in the ground. A deep rumble came from her maw.

No matter how he viewed her proposition, he couldn't find a good reason _not _to. So long as Vivia was willing to provide food for them, at any rate. In fact, he'd be close enough to Teirm that getting a job during the summer months would be entirely possible. He smiled and turned around, '_I'm surprised that you're okay with this. Normally you don't like to be separated.'_

'_I still don't.'_ she replied, licking her claws. '_However, if you get in trouble this time, I will be close enough to make a difference.'_

The prospect excited Mals. Even though the herbalist Angela had very much unsettled him, he was positive that she had more information on dragons.

Vivia rumbled, rubbing up against him as she nuzzled his arm. '_If you want to go back into Teirm today, I could move our camp.'_

The boy blinked in surprised and smiled. '_You don't have to do that, Vivia. I can get our stuff moved within a couple of days, easily.'_ He softly cupped the side of her jaw as she raised her head up to eye level.

'_I can do it in a couple of hours.'_ The dragon replied smugly, tilting her head. '_Besides, I know you want to go back into Teirm.'_

Mals bit his lip, pacing around the camp. '_How will I find our new camp after you've moved it?'_

'_I will be close enough to talk to you while you are in Teirm.'_ She responded, flaring her wings. '_Also, I would like to see how far I can fly you.'_

'_Pardon?'_ Mals asked, caught flat footed by the question. He had never expected _her_ to be the one to want to fly with him first. In fact, her lack of articulation in the past days compared to today surprised him.

'_I didn't talk to you before because you thought of me as an unintelligent animal.'_ She huffed. Mals' stomach sank as he felt how deeply his actions had hurt her feelings. '_So, I acted exactly as you thought of me.'_

Of course, that wasn't completely true. She had always appeared far more intelligent than any animal. Nonetheless, regret poured openly from Mals, flooding their connection as he stood next to her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. '_I'm sorry, Vivia' _he said, shaking his head. '_I was ignorant before. I never meant to hurt your feelings.'_ He finished, looking at her.

Slowly, she turned towards him, her large eye glimmering as she returned the hug as best as she could. Her chest rumbled pleasantly. '_You could not have known, so I will not hold it against you.'_ She stated plainly, indicating that she accepted his apology. '_I still want to fly with you, and you have not given me an answer.'_

'_Yes!'_ Mals answered cheerfully, bouncing excitedly. '_I've wanted to fly with you since you started doing it on your own.'_ Giddiness welled up inside of him, spilling over there connection.

Vivia flapped her wings excitedly, licking his cheek again as she gestured towards his pack. '_Well, pack some supplies for the day and I'll fly you down to Pike's Point.'_ She barely contained her enthusiasm for the idea.

The boy dashed across the camp, his hand darting out towards various supplies scattered around. He packed his waterskin and enough meat for the day. He tore off a large piece for Vivia and tossed it to her. After a quick assessment to make sure that he had all of his supplies, he gave one last look to the valley ridges that had long sheltered him. It was the first time that he'd ever felt truly nostalgic over something. Mals returned to Vivia, who was shuffling anxiously in the knee-high snow. He tossed his leg up over her shoulders as she crouched low for him, before a thought came to his mind.

'_Am I going to need a saddle for this?'_ he wondered as he rubbed her hard, ivory-colored scales. Though they were smooth against his fingers, they were as tough as steel, and would undoubtedly damage his legs over an extended period.

'_If it begins to pain you, I will land and allow you to walk the remainder of the journey.'_ Vivia promised, rumbling as she felt him settle between her shoulders.

'_That sounds good.'_ Mals replied as he fidgeted. He gripped the sides of her scales with his thighs, his hands resting on the neck spine closest to him. He took a deep breath as he glanced around to make sure that nothing would hurt him during the flight. He was surprised how easily Vivia supported his weight. She was only the size of a small horse, yet her legs were relaxed as he rested upon her shoulders.

Vivia rumbled, flapping her wings experimentally as she lowered herself into a crouch. '_Are you ready?'_ she asked. Her claws gripped the soil beneath them as she prepared to launch herself into the air.

Mals felt his stomach turn a little as a bout of anxiety overtook him. '_As ready as I'll ever be…'_ he said, leaning down near her neck. '_Just try and take it a little slow until I get used to it, okay?'_

The dragon snorted, but coughed out an acknowledgment. Mals held his breath as the muscles in her legs clenched in preparation for the first leap into the air. In a burst of motion, Vivia flung herself into the air with her powerful hind legs. The first powerful flap of her wings made a loud 'thud' as she battled against gravity. Vivia grunted in exertion as she beat her wings, pulling herself higher and higher with great effort. Mals couldn't tell whether or not they'd be able to stay airborne.

His worries were swept aside as Vivia cleared the ridges of the valley. All at once a strong breeze pushed against the underside of her wings, thrusting her up and forward, much to Vivia's relief. '_That,'_ she said, pumping her wings occasionally to push herself forward against the air current, '_is another reason that I wanted to get out of that valley. It is extremely difficult to fly out of.'_

A feeling of exhilaration filled Mals as Vivia shot forward through the air. Though they were still well below the higher peaks of the Spine, they were still much higher than he'd ever been in his life. His giddiness spilled over as he let out a joyful cry, throwing one of his arms in the air. Vivia joined him in his glee, letting loose a frightening roar that echoed across the lonely peaks of the Spine.

Below them, Mals' sharp eyes could spot the dashing forms of various animals throughout the mountain range's forests. Though he was sure that his vision was not as good as Vivia's, he was beginning to understand how she could hunt so well. In response to his thoughts, Vivia filled his kind with a series of images. The images consisted of the forest below them from Vivia's perspective. He could make out animals that had previously been hidden to him, including rodents and the larger types of insects that riddle the Spine.

'_It makes the ground seem quite boring, does it not?'_ Vivia asked, roaring fiercely again.

Mals chuckled, patting the side of her neck. '_This is extraordinary. I don't see what could possibly convince you to ever land.'_ He said, looking around. The valley behind them was growing smaller by the minute. Before long, he wouldn't be able to see it at all.

'_Food, mostly.'_ Vivia responded. '_I am also not large enough yet to keep myself airborne for more than a few hours.'_

Mals' eyes followed the various landscapes as they flew beneath them at ridiculous speeds. It took him a second to recognize the landmarks from his new perspective, but eventually he began to orient himself. They had covered a distance in less than 10 minutes what would have taken him over an hour on foot. He blinked stupidly as he realized that they would reach Pike's Point in less than 45 minutes.

After a half hour of flying, Vivia's breathing became labored. Her wings spent as little time beating as she could manage, favoring to simply drift along the air currents that flowed throughout the peaks of the Spine. Mals also noticed that his legs were becoming sore. The skin on the inside of his thighs was raw and chafed from rubbing against Vivia's iron-like scales for so long.

Though Vivia did not complain about her own fatigue, he felt her become more and more concerned about the state of his legs. Fortunately, Pike's Point had just come into view. The gorge looked much smaller from their elevation. Vivia rumbled as she locked her wings into a gliding position, grateful for the reprieve. '_How are your legs?'_ she asked.

'_Sore, but I think they're okay.'_ Mals said, smiling to comfort his partner. '_I think I may wrap them in cloth to keep them from rubbing each other later, though.'_ He added, wincing slightly.

With a large lurch, Vivia landed roughly on the safe side of Pike's Point. Her breathing was hard and labored as Mals slid off of her. He moaned slightly in pain as he touched his leg. The muscles were sore from gripping her sides, and the skin was rubbed raw; it was bleeding in a few places.

'_I'm sorry.'_ Vivia said, nudging him with her snout.

The gesture warmed Mals' heart, and he hugged her head affectionately. '_Never be sorry for something that you can't help.'_ He said. '_If anything, this is a testimony to your strength!'_ for effect, he rapped her scales with his knuckles. Though he was sure she barely felt it, his knuckles became sore from the contact.

Vivia rumbled pleasantly from the compliment. She relaxed her legs as she rested in the deep snow. Mals was impressed by how well she blended in with the frozen material. '_I will rest here for a few minutes, and then I shall look for a good camp site near Teirm.'_ She said, humming as she licked his cheek affectionately.

The boy chuckled, rubbing her snout. '_Okay. Just try and be careful with some of my stuff at camp.'_ He requested. '_Your claws could poke holes in just about everything we own.'_ He finished, smiling at her.

Vivia rolled her eyes, nudging him towards Teirm with her snout. '_Just hurry back. Being away from you makes my scales itch.'_

Mals nodded before jogging towards Teirm. He kept the jog slow for the sake of his legs. Even at this pace he was still going faster than the average human could sprint. As a result, Teirm came into view after about two hours of light jogging. His connection with Vivia was strained more and more as he approached the coastal city. When he reached the outer wall, her presence was like a ghost on the edge of his consciousness. He hastily put on his headband and gloves.

A lone sentinel sat upon the wall, looking down at him. Mals squinted against the light of the sun, but soon recognized the watcher as Solembum. The cat watched him with a moderately bored expression, yet its eyes never strayed from him. Mals shivered a little and circled the city, aimed for the east-facing main gate.

Mals blinked as he rounded the North-east corner of the city. In front of the gate was a large squadron of guards. They held halberds and all harbored deadly-serious expressions. In front of them, a young human boy, probably no older than 9, was on his knees. Mals' eyes narrowed as he watched the scene. The boy was pleading with them.

He approached the guards, trying to appear non-threatening. An archer on the wall noticed him first and nocked an arrow, sending a warning down to the guards below. The guards turned quickly, readying their halberds towards him. Mals put his hands up in a peaceful gesture, indicating that he did not have a weapon.

The company of guards relaxed and continued to ignore the child in front of them. As Mals approached, he raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"The city's on lock-down." replied the senior officer of the guard. He had a sheathed sword on his belt. "A large group of Urgals was spotted at the mouth of the valley ahead. Until we receive word that they've moved on, the gate will remain locked.

"They're not leaving!" the boy in front of them screamed. His hands were clasped in a pleading gesture as he bowed his head. "Please! They've got my family's house surrounded! We need soldiers!"

The senior officer sighed as if a great weight lay upon his shoulders. He glanced at the kid and shook his head. "I'm sorry, son. We have very explicit orders to protect the city. If we abandon our post, Lord Risthart will have our heads."

The boy broke into tears and pounded the ground with his fists. Mals watched the scene with a growing sense of disgust. "Does Lord Risthart not care about his own subjects?" he asked, frowning. The commanding officer gave him a warning glance, his hand moving to his sword.

"You'd best watch your tongue, boy." He said, glaring at Mals. "Lord Risthart does what he believes is best for the city of Teirm."

"And what do you think is best for Teirm?" Mals questioned in return. "Do you think that letting Urgals rape and pillage the surrounding villages is for the best?"

'_What's happening?'_ came a distant question from Vivia. He could barely hear it, though he did sense her rising alarm.

'_Urgals have been sighted near Teirm.'_ He responded, trying to be vague. '_The guards are refusing to defend the surrounding area.'_

'_Don't do anything foolish.' _Vivia warned. Already he could feel her flying towards him.

"Like I said, boy. We cannot help them. No matter how much we want to." The guard replied, sighing angrily. "Now, go; before I detain you."

'_You can't show yourself, Vivia.'_ He warned in return. '_If you do, it'll mean torture and death for the both of us.'_

A ripping snarl echoed into his consciousness, and Vivia's frustration washed over him. '_If you are in danger, I shall intervene. You have been warned._'

Mals knew that this was no idle threat. He scoffed, turning away from the guards. He glanced at the crying boy on the street, and approached him.

The child's crying ebbed somewhat as Mals approached, and he looked up at him. "W-will you help us?" the child asked. A tear ran down his cheek; the scene made Mals' heart ache.

"Where is your house?" he asked, his hand fidgeting on his hunting knife.

The boy leapt up, giving a short yell of joy. He turned around and pointed towards a distance, winding river. "F-follow that river to the south-east. My family's house sits on the western side of the river, where it forks and flows into the ocean." He stuttered.

Mals nodded. He knew where that was. "Okay. Stay here with the guards. I'll go see if there's anything I can do."

Before the boy or the guards could object, Mals broke into a light jog, ignoring the pain from his legs. If it was only a couple of Urgals, there was a possibility that he could kill them. Urgals were nearly as slow as a human, even if they were stronger. After he was out of their sight, he burst into a full sprint.

It took him only twenty minutes to find where he needed to go. He groaned as he saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky, indicating a fire much larger than a simple cooking pit. The plume rose from the opposite side of a large growth of trees that sat along the riverbed. Mals quietly slipped among the trees and undergrowth, peering out the other side.

He had never seen an Urgal, but he was more than familiar with the many tales describing their unpleasant features and grotesque bodies. As he caught a glimpse of the figures gathered around the burning house in front of him, he realized that the stories had been surprisingly accurate.

Their skin was a light grayish pigment and it covered long, burly arms and bowed legs. Twin horns grew above their heads; each pair curved differently than the last. Mals grimaced as he caught sight of their piggish yellow eyes. They were repulsive creatures to be sure.

He shifted uncomfortably as he felt Vivia's presence weighing on him heavily from much closer. She was still within the Spine, having traveled along the peaks to the south so as to be closer to him. It would take her no longer than three minutes to reach him from her current position, a thought that she imposed heavily upon him. If he engaged the Urgals, she would fly to him, possibly compromising the both of them.

A scream erupted from the burning house. Mals' attention was instantly shifted towards the group of eight Urgals as they pulled several forms from the burning structure. Among them was a thrashing woman who had tears streaming down her face. She was reaching towards a crying girl who looked to be no older than five. Last to be dragged from the building was a large male human. Blood oozed from the large slash that ran across his sternum; if he wasn't already dead, he would be shortly.

A dark anger began to well up inside of Mals as he watched the scene unfold. His hand clenched his dagger as his mind expanded angrily. Furious tendrils of thought began lashing out, controlled only by his building fury.

The woman screamed again as the child was held up, given a clear view as an Urgal held up the woman. In a swift motion, an Urgal on the far side of the gathering loosed an arrow into the woman's leg. An ear-piercing scream rewarded the action.

The Urgal nocked another arrow and grinned. The young girl broke into hysterics from her mother's scream. Tears poured openly from the adult woman as she collapsed against the Urgal holding her up. She motioned towards her daughter, attempting to comfort her in any way she could. The arrow was pulled taut against the bowstring, and the Urgal took aim. The arrow pointed directly towards the temple of the woman.

The fury inside of the elf-boy spilled over, and a wave of violent power expanded from his mind. It washed over the Urgal with the bow and arrow. It stiffened as Mals let out a growl, attacking the Urgal with all the mental power he could muster. He'd never interacted with anything other than Vivia before, though he quickly got a handle on what he needed to do.

His tendrils of mental will power easily smashed through the meager mental defenses of the Urgal. In one swift motion Mals aimed the arrow up through his control of the Urgal, and let it fly. The barbs of the arrow slid seamlessly into the skull of the Urgal holding the woman. The remaining Urgals let out a snarl of rage and betrayal as they turned on the one with the arrow. The woman collapsed on the ground, screaming in pain. Her daughter was dropped next to the woman as the Urgal holding her turned towards the one with the bow.

Mals let his fury boil over, letting out a cry from his hiding place as his will washed over the 6 remaining Urgals. They stiffened in turn as his tendrils of rage began smashing into their mental defenses. Fueled by the injustice of their atrocities, Mals stepped out from his hiding place. One by one each of their defenses fell, as their minds were not nearly powerful enough to stand against an Elf's mental capacity. In the back of his mind, he vaguely acknowledged Vivia's growing presence.

Four of the Urgals were paralyzed, physically crippled by his mental hold over them. Mals frowned as his mind smashed against the defenses of the last Urgal. This one was different.

Two intelligent eyes gleamed back at him as he located the one he was stuck against. This Urgal was garbed in a great deal of animal skins, and various beads hung from its neck and arms. Its eyes narrowed as it roared. A great force pressed against Mals' consciousness in a counter-attack, and it was all he could do to keep all of the Urgals he had subdued from turning on him. His control slipped on one of the Urgals, releasing it from his grasp as he fought against the overwhelming force of the Urgal in front of him.

'_I am here, Mals.'_ Came Vivia's comforting voice. He could sense her hovering above, well out of sight. '_I shall help.'_

Mals felt his own mental force become significantly bolstered as Vivia joined in the struggle. The Urgal shaman in front of him snarled as its attack was fended off. Mals' eyes narrowed as the Urgal that had been released from his control picked up its bow and turned to him, snarling. Despite Vivia's help, the shaman had him locked in their mental struggle. He wouldn't be able to stop the Urgal from firing upon him without succumbing to the will of the shaman.

'_Quickly, Vivia! We need to win this!'_ Mals urged, pushing as hard as he could against the shaman's mind. Vivia slammed her own consciousness against the enemy magic-user, steadily driving him back. The struggle was quickly moving in favor of Mals and Vivia.

The free Urgal nocked an arrow and pulled it taut. It aimed the barbed end at Mals and snarled viciously. A menacing smirk was plastered to its face.

A feeling of dread filled Mals as he realized that he wouldn't be able to overpower the Shaman in time to avoid the arrow. Vivia roared as she came to the same conclusion, and abandoned her mental attack against the shaman. He felt her dive towards them as fast as she could, her wings tucked against her sides for speed. It still wouldn't be enough.

Mals closed his eyes, sighing regretfully as the shaman slowly drove him back. He'd never pictured himself dying to Urgals.

A loud, angry hiss reverberated across the field. Mals opened his eyes in surprise and glanced at the bow-wielding Urgal that was now lying on its back. Crouched on its chest and pulling a small, slim dagger out of the side of the Urgal's neck was a young boy with shaggy, black hair. The boy gave him a toothy grin.

Mals froze as he felt a monstrous mental force pressed against his own. He was powerless to stop it, but became slightly confused as the force melded with his own. The shaman gave a strangled cry as his bolstered mental attack smashed into its mind, thoroughly destroying it. The Urgal dropped to the ground, staring into the air with a blank look. A line of drool ran down its cheek.

Mals whirled around as soon as he was able. His mind split from the force that had supplemented his attack, wrapping around him protectively as he guarded against an attack. Standing behind him, wearing an amused grin was the herbalist, Angela.

"What, were you planning on defending yourself against me?" she asked smugly. "I mean, really. Why bother wasting the energy?"

A loud roar echoed from above them, and Mals glanced up in time to see Vivia drop down in front of him. Her body hit the ground at troubling speeds, and her large claws slammed into the ground painfully. She flared her wings protectively in front of him as she faced the woman and let out a bone-rattling roar of fury.

"Peace, dragon." Angela said, utterly unfazed by the appearance of Vivia. Quickly she added, "Eka wilae neo haina ono oro onr Shur'tugal." I will not harm you or your Rider.

Vivia snorted in surprise, her neck arching back. Though she did not understand the words specifically, she felt their meaning. She tucked in her wings hesitantly, looking back at Mals, who was holding his breath. He did not understand what the herbalist had said.

'_She means us no harm.' _Vivia said quickly as she turned. He could tell that she was annoyed with him, but she did not bring it up.

'_Well I could have told you that.'_ Mals replied, frowning. '_She's the woman I talked to yesterday.'_ He was relieved that Vivia had not been too angry over his choice to engage the Urgals.

Vivia snorted derisively and nudged his side. '_Never do anything like that again, Mals. You could have died.'_

Mals agreed with her, and hugged her neck, keeping a wary eye on the Urgals that Angela still had pinned down. He was interested to see her eyes closed, and he could hear occasional grunts coming from the immobilized Urgals. After several minutes, all of the Urgals grasped their weapons in unison and slit their throats with them, spraying blood across the grass.

The herbalist sighed and opened her eyes. She looked… sad? "Such a shame." She muttered, glancing at the bodies.

"A shame?" scoffed Mals. He sneered at the dead Urgals, tempted to spit on their corpses. He refrained from doing so.

"Yes, a shame." Angela said again, her features darkening somewhat. "These Urgals were being forced against their will to do this."

That caught Mals off guard. "Forced? How exactly do you force an Urgal to do anything?"

The herbalist shook her head at his ignorance. "By forcing them to make oaths in the Ancient Language, obviously." Angela said impatiently, sweeping past the bodies. She approached the woman and child who were curled against a tree. The mother wrapped her arms around her daughter defensively as Angela approached.

The herbalist paid her no mind and crouched down over the women, obstructing her from Mals' view. After a few short minutes, she stood up again. The arrow that had pierced the woman's leg had been removed, and the wound had been sealed, somehow. Moreover, the woman and child both appeared to be dazed.

"Come." Angela ordered as she walked past them, headed towards a bunch of trees. "Preferably before any more witnesses arrive." She added, glancing back at them.

"What did you do to them?" Mals asked as he caught up to her. He noticed that her pace was long and sure, requiring strength that most humans did not possess. "Furthermore, why aren't you surprised to see Vivia?" he noticed Solembum strolling pleasantly alongside Angela. His large, black paws dug deep into the dirt. Where had he come from? "And who was that boy earlier?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "If you don't rein in that curiosity, my hair will turn gray before I finish sating your appetite for knowledge." She replied, entering the relative safety of the trees.

Mals followed her in, followed shortly by Vivia. When they had gone half a mile into the cover of the forest, Angela slowed down to a more comfortable pace and sighed.

"First of all, I did nothing harmful to those two back there." She replied. "I healed her. That's all. Suffice to say that she will not remember what happened, nor will she remember seeing the 12-foot long flying lizard." She gave him an annoyed look as she strolled forward. "I took care of the boy at the gate of Teirm, as well." Vivia bristled at the remark, but did nothing.

"Secondly, I'm not surprised because I am quite perceptive." She said. "You may as well have flat-out told me that you were a Dragon Rider, for all the good your little questions did you." She remarked. Now it was Mals' turn to bristle at the jab at his intelligence. "And thirdly, that boy from earlier is still with us. If your education wasn't so woefully incomplete, you would have gathered that Solembum is a werecat by now."

A Werecat! Mals had heard of them vaguely from the stories he'd heard over the years, but he'd never seen one. At any rate, it would explain Solembum's intelligence. Werecats were known to be more intelligent than humans. He'd also heard that werecats can morph into a human form at will.

Angela glanced at Mals as he processed the information. "Any other questions? You may as well get them off your chest while we have the chance." She inquired. "Just know that there are questions that I will not answer."

Mals nodded, before asking, "You said that the Urgals had been forced to swear oaths. To whom?"

"To a Shade named Durza." She replied. She grimaced in disgust at the word.

"A Shade!?" Mals exclaimed, his eyebrows rising. "Since when do shades command Urgals?"

Angela chuckled darkly, glancing at the befuddled boy. "Durza is not acting of his own volition, I'm afraid to say." She responded, shaking her head. "It's bad enough that a Shade is out and about, spreading chaos and destruction across the land… but this one is following orders."

Mals' blood chilled. "That's not possible." He retorted, somewhat in denial. "Nothing can command a Shade. There's nothing powerful enough to bend them to their will." Said Mals, despite the thought that was beginning to grow in the back of his mind. No… it couldn't be. He wouldn't…

"Ah, but you don't really believe that, do you?" Angela asked, sitting down on a stump.

"He wouldn't." asserted the half-breed, his head shaking rapidly. "I know he's strict and not a good king… but he wouldn't… couldn't… command that." He gestured towards the pillar of smoke rising in the distance.

"He can, and he has." retorted Angela. Her face was a vision of sadness as she shook her head. "Galbatorix is a corrupt soul. His madness will drive him to do anything he feels that he needs to do."

'_She's not lying.'_ Said Vivia, quietly. She nudged his arm affectionately as she moved towards him. '_I know it's horrible to acknowledge, but she speaks the truth.'_

Mals' head spun wildly as he sat down, staring up at the blue sky peeking through the leaves. "I don't… want to believe it…" he mumbled.

"Believe it if you want. Or don't." Angela said, shrugging her shoulders. "What you believe doesn't change what is. It merely changes how you react to it." She stared at him intently, a small smile on her lips. "So, what will you do, Dragon Rider? Will you do your duty as a Rider and rectify the imbalance that is threatening to destroy this land? Or will you hide in the mountains like a scared rabbit?"

The question stung. Mals' eyes narrowed as his pride was wounded, and Vivia's scales rustled as she growled at Angela; the comment had insulted her equally. "Who are you to judge me?" Mals asked, standing up. "I'm not a warrior, yet I helped that family! That was going above and beyond what I could be expected to do!" he shouted, his eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at the herbalist.

Angela scoffed and stood up, flicking Mals' forehead. The blow was surprisingly strong, and it knocked him back a couple steps. "You have no idea what's expected of you, child." She retorted. "How could you? You can't have received much of an education, and you live out in the middle of the Spine! How could you possibly know what obligations are expected of you?"

The question caught Mals off-guard. "How do you know where I live?" he asked.

"Not important." Came the vague response. "What _is_ important is your future." She continued, glancing at him. "I'm beginning to understand why you turned down my fortune-telling." She poked him harshly in the chest, advancing on him. "You're scared!" she declared, laughing. "Scared that you will be pulled into an inescapable destiny that you don't want to live out!" she poked him again, forcing his back against a tree. "You're scared that your future will include things that you don't want to do." She asserted, staring him in the eye. "Well, I've got news for you, Dragon Rider. That's life." She finished, crossing her arms.

Mals was affronted by her directness. He returned the stare, throwing a glance towards Vivia. Though she showed no sign of it, he could tell that she agreed with the herbalist. Try as he might, he couldn't think of a good retort. Everything he thought of just sounded like a selfish excuse. "I… I can't fight." He murmured desperately. "Like I said, I'm not a warrior."

Angela chuckled, but backed off. "Do you say _anything_ that you believe?" she asked. "You broke into the minds of half a dozen Urgals." She said, effectively debunking his statement. "Even among proficient magic users that would be a fair achievement." She continued, "If I had to guess, I'd say your Elf blood had a lot to do with it."

"What do you want from me?" he asked quietly, cutting her off.

"It's not what I want from you." Angela said, tapping his forehead. "It's about what you want from yourself. Do you want this to continue?" she asked, gesturing at the smoke for emphasis. "Do you want Urgals to continue killing and pillaging anything and everything they desire?"

"No!" he said hurriedly. He glared at her, insulted that she'd insinuate otherwise.

"Well, you have the means to stop it all." She said, smirking. "All you have to do is work for it."

'_We cannot allow this to continue.'_ Vivia added, rubbing against him. '_I know you are conflicted… but my instincts are telling me to listen to this woman. She is far wiser than she looks.'_

Mals slumped in defeat, looking up at the woman. "And how am I supposed to become strong enough to defeat Galbatorix? His strength is legendary."

Angela chuckled, glancing up at the sky. "Winning a war isn't always about being stronger than your opponent." She replied, sighing wistfully. "Sometimes it's simply about using assets a certain way… and allying with the right people."

"You don't mean the Varden, do you?" Mals asked, confounded. "Are you with them?"

Angela tapped her chin and shrugged. "I wouldn't say that I'm… with… them. I simply don't oppose what they stand for." she finished, nodding.

"And you want me to join them?" Mals asked in return, raising an eyebrow. "I don't even know where they are."

Angela laughed loudly, her voice echoing through the forest. "_Join_ them? I wouldn't advise it. At least, not now." She said, chuckling lightly. "The Varden may have different ambitions, but they are just as fierce as Galbatorix. You would be torn to pieces amidst their political squabbling as it is." She looked him over, nodding before murmuring, "Maybe in a few years, but certainly not now. Not until you've been properly trained, at any rate."

The half-elf blinked and glanced at the herbalist. "Trained? Who alive aside from Galbatorix is qualified to train a Rider?"

Angela snorted and tossed her hair. "First of all, Galbatorix is _not_ qualified to train a Rider. He's qualified to train a Weapon, but not a Rider." She declared. She stole a glance at Vivia before smiling. "However, there are a couple still alive that would make proper mentors. Unfortunately," she added, "none are within our ability to contact. In that regard, I suppose I will have to suffice."

Mals felt his jaw go slack, and he felt a similar response come from Vivia. "Excuse me? How exactly are you qualified to train a _Rider_?"

This question did not amuse Angela. In a swift motion she bent low and grabbed a long, sturdy branch that had been ripped off a tree. Spinning it in a circle, she swept Mals' legs out from under him, and planted the butt of the branch against his chest. The boy hit the ground with a dull thud, and he coughed as the wind was knocked from him. He stared up at the woman with a dumbfounded expression. If he'd been prepared, he _might_ have been able to avoid that, but she'd moved far faster than any human he'd seen.

"Any further questions?" Angela asked promptly, lifting the branch off of his chest.

Mals shook his head, standing up. Vivia looked slightly tense, but she hadn't moved against Angela. The herbalist gave him a critical stare and helped him up, brushing off his shoulder. "Good. Now, I assume you can to Teirm to talk to me, so you can go home now." She continued, "Rest until tomorrow, and meet me in the forest North-East of Teirm by noon. I may not be able to teach you how to be a Rider, but I _can_ teach you how to fight. That will have to do for now." She sighed, glancing at him as she turned away. "Don't be late."

Solembum, who until this point had been lounging in a tree, hopped down and followed her.

Mals rubbed his jaw as he leaned against a tree. He threw a glance towards Vivia. '_What did we just get involved with?'_ he asked, suddenly regretting his trip to Teirm.

'_Our destiny._' Vivia replied, humming pleasantly as she stretched. '_I would much rather fight Galbatorix as a trained fighter than a mountain-dwelling coward.' _ She said. '_Now get on. While you were out fighting Urgals, I found a camp site, and most of your stuff is there.'_

Mals nodded and sat on her shoulders. Before he sat down, he quickly wrapped a few spare fabrics from his pack around his legs, which were still rather sore. Despite his reluctance to put all of his trust in this Angela woman, he couldn't help but feel that Vivia was right.

He had to fight.

* * *

**Ah, man. This chapter came out way later than I'd intended. This is mostly because I'd written about half of it, and then deleted it all and started over. I'm probably going to be doing a bit of a time-skip next chapter, though I will be doing a thorough overview of how Mals' first week of training went.**

**At about this point, Saphira should have just hatched for Eragon. At about a month old, she and Eragon leave Carvahall with Brom. I would imagine she's roughly two months old by the time they arrive in Teirm. Maybe even a little older.**

**Anyways, I hope this chapter didn't seem too forced. The reason that I had to re-write this chapter is because I realized that… Mals had no reason for resisting the Empire. I had to fabricate one on the spot. As always, read and review.**


	5. Chapter 4: Baby Steps

**Well, I'd hoped the story would have gained more reviews by now, but oh well. To my one loyal reviewer, your feedback is very much appreciated. In any case, I hope the silent readers are enjoying the story.**

**Chapter 4: Baby Steps**

* * *

_Thwack!_

Mals stumbled as the flat of a metal blade rapped his forehead. He blinked, shaking his head as he glared at the offending cutting instrument. It was a crude metal sword held by his teacher, Angela.

She stared at him with an annoyed expression. "I can't have you spacing out like that. Concentrate, or you're never going to be good at this." She flicked the practice sword expertly, twirling it deftly in her hand as she readied herself.

The boy was given only a second's warning to put up his guard before Angela charged forward, thrusting her sword at him. The tip of the blade narrowly passed by his side as he twirled around it, awkwardly pushing it away with his shield. The herbalist then spun around, using her own momentum to move the sword around her in a circle. Before Mals could raise his sword to parry the strike, she pressed the tip of her own blade against his jugular.

"Are you even trying?" she asked, smacking him again with the blade. "I mean, really. You're probably the slowest elf I have ever had the misfortune of instructing."

Mals winced, flushing in embarrassment as he used the tip of his sword to flick her blade away. "Give me a break. I'm all lopsided thanks to this thing." He complained, gesturing at his shield. "How anybody fights with one is beyond me…" he mumbled, grumbling.

Angela giggled, shooting him one of her trademark stares as she raised an eyebrow. "If you ever get caught in a fight without a shield, you'd better get a whole lot better at dancing, kid. If you use that sad excuse for a technique without a shield, you'll get sliced to pieces."

Mals grumbled, tossing his shield and practice sword to the ground. "Whatever. We should start the book work before it gets too late." He gave his shield an annoyed look as he kicked it against a tree in frustration.

The herbalist did not object to his suggestion. She pulled out a series of large tomes from her pack that was resting against a log she had taken to sitting on. A grumble came from the half-breed in front of her as he sat down in front of her, cross-legged. A loud rumble came from behind him as Vivia approached, holding what was left of a large rabbit in her jaws.

'_Done with the sword-play already?_' she asked as she settled next to a tree. She began tearing into her rabbit snack, paying attention to the waves of irritation she felt emanating off of her partner.

'_I didn't expect it to be this frustrating._' Mals replied, taking a book from Angela. It was a large text-filled tome filled with the runes of the human language. Since it was one of the more common languages, she'd figured that it would be good for him to learn how to read and write in it. Mals' frown deepened as he remembered her flabbergasted expression when he had told her he couldn't read.

Vivia sighed mentally as she felt her partner's frustration increase. '_Perhaps it will become less difficult with time.'_ She offered. '_Or perhaps you will find a style that more suits you. How do the Elves fight?'_

'_From what Angela's told me, Elves excel at nearly every style of fighting that exists on Alagaesia.'_ Mals responded, grumbling as he analyzed the runes in front of him. '_The fighting style an Elf chooses is supposed to reflect him or her.'_

Mals could sense that Vivia wanted to continue the conversation, but she let the topic drop. More than chatting with him, he knew that she wanted him to focus on his studies. A grimace plastered Mals' features as he began mimicking the runes on a piece of paper. He was adequate at writing, though there were certain runes that still escaped his ability to memorize for now.

On top of learning swordsmanship and writing, Angela had been teaching him the basic concepts of magic. He could tell that she was hesitant to teach him any of the words to the Ancient Language, however. As he learned more about how magic worked, he began to understand why she was so tentative.

The first reason was rather obvious. If he was unskilled in the ways of magic, he ran the risk of accidentally killing himself through its usage. A mistake as simple as a mispronounced word could lead to his death as surely as if he'd sliced his own throat. He sensed that there was a secondary reason as well, however. When he'd asked Vivia, she had agreed with his hunch, and she'd even come up with a hypothesis.

'_What are Galbatorix's motivations?'_ she'd asked him in return. He had shrugged, not knowing the answer, and also not understanding the importance of the question. '_Exactly.'_ she said, '_We don't know why Galbatorix is doing what he's doing, do we? We can guess of course, but his madness makes his motivations a mystery. I believe Angela is hesitant because she does not fully understand your motivation for fighting.'_

'_Well, I don't even fully understand my motivation for fighting.'_ Mals had admitted, shrugging. '_That doesn't mean I'm going to go crazy with power or anything. It just means that I want what's happening in Alagaesia right now to end.'_

'_It doesn't necessarily mean that you won't go crazy with power, however.'_ Vivia said. '_Though Angela has no reason to believe that you won't use her knowledge for good, she also has no reason to believe that you will.'_

He hadn't responded after that. Vivia had a good point, overall. He was just a kid that Angela had met a week ago. He was still a wild card. For all she knew, Mals could fly off to Galbatorix the very next day if it suited his needs. Of course the idea was appalling to Mals… but he hadn't become personally invested in this war, yet. Anything could happen at this point.

Instead of teaching him words, she'd focused primarily on preparing him mentally. Every day before doing anything else they'd sit across from each other and try to break into each other's minds. Of course Mals had never held her out, nor had he ever broken into her mind. Nonetheless, Mals excelled at mental combat more than any other aspect of his training. After even just a week, his capacity for subduing minds and defending his own had escalated prodigally. It was also the only time of day that he could expect to hear a compliment from his trainer.

This regimen had continued for the better part of their first week together. Each morning, Vivia would fly the two of them down from the Spine to the secluded section of forest near Teirm. No matter what time they arrived, Angela would always be only a few minutes later than them. It was slightly unnerving.

Mals glanced up as he heard a large sigh come from his trainer. Angela stood up and grabbed her training sword.

"Get up." She said, gesturing towards his equipment. "I want to try something."

Instantly, the boy frowned. Sword training was consistently the most annoying part of his day. Having it twice in the same day was doubly so. Nonetheless, he obeyed her instruction. He heaved himself to his feet and lifted his sword up off the ground. Angela stopped him by clearing her throat as he reached for his shield. He paused and glanced at her, confused.

"You're not using a shield this time." She said, settling into her on-guard stance. "Something is throwing you off, and I'm moderately sure it's the shield."

Mals raised an eyebrow, but nodded. He moved away from his shield, readying his slim, if slightly dull blade. Vivia looked on in interest, staring intently at how he was moving differently with the lack of the weight on his right side.

Again, he had only a moment to prepare himself before Angela burst towards him. She made the same jab from before, and again he twirled around the blade. He stopped the motion deftly by planting a foot in the ground. His sword came up just in time to knock aside Angela's second strike that had been aimed at his neck.

The herbalist smirked as she backed away, nodding in satisfaction. "As I thought. You felt more in control that time, didn't you? You certainly weren't flailing around like you normally do."

"I did… but why?" he asked, glancing at his shield. "The shield isn't that heavy, even for a human. It weighs nothing to me."

Angela chuckled, twirling her weapon. "The weight doesn't matter, kiddo. You have the strength and speed of an elf, but the balance of a human. Your body wasn't used to the weight, not to mention the increased drag from the air. As a result, you were constantly overcompensating to correct your sense of balance."

"Well that's… annoying." He grumbled, staring hatefully at his shield. "How am I supposed to fight like this?" he asked, gesturing at his bared arm and hand.

"Catch." Angela said, surprising the boy. She tossed her training sword at him. Mals caught the blade with his right hand, blinking as his sense of balance became even more even.

Spinning the blade around his hand, he jabbed the air with it experimentally. It flowed smoothly through the air, causing a low whistle. "Okay… but how can I fight like this?" Mals questioned, spinning the two blades. "It seems… reckless."

"For a human, it would be." Angela retorted as she pulled a long staff out from behind her log. The staff had two serrated blades on either end. "With your speed and strength, not having a shield won't be a problem against most opponents." For emphasis, she twirled her staff expertly, grinning. "At any rate, once you have better mastery over your balance, you can switch back to a shield later if you like." She added. "For now, you'll improve much faster if your body doesn't have to constantly fight its own sense of balance."

Mals shivered as he eyed the staff she was wielding. He'd only seen her use it a couple of times, but he knew it was her weapon of choice in battle. She was frighteningly lethal when she used it, and it had only been her masterful self-control that kept her from slicing him to pieces in their previous duels.

In their first training session he'd asked why they'd be using sharpened weapons. Angela has smirked at him in her usual fashion and said that neither of them were in danger of being cut in their fights. On top of that, using sharpened blades forced them to develop their sense of self-control and their precision with a weapon, lest they wanted to cripple or kill their opponent.

Though Mals didn't agree with her logic, he didn't argue it, either. He knew that she could damage him just as severely with a blunted weapon.

In a burst of speed, Angela dashed forward. She jabbed at him with the point of her staff, the tip of the blade moving towards his heart. Mals knocked aside the point of her staff with a flick of his wrist and twirled towards her, extending his second sword towards her arm. Angela deftly spun the staff, knocking the tip of his sword away. She kicked out at him, forcing him to back away.

The herbalist used the distance advantage her staff provided her and stabbed out at her student. Mals bent backwards awkwardly, letting the staff-blade fly through the space his eye had occupied moments before. He rolled to the side as the blade angled downwards towards him. He idly noted that a human would have died three times in their scuffle thus far.

He ducked and weaved around Angela's impressive attack. He felt giddiness well up inside of him as responded to her attacks much faster than before. Angela's advice had really made a difference. He noticed that even though Angela definitely wasn't using the full capacity of her skill to hit him, she was likely moving as fast as she was physically able. A grin broke out across his face as he danced around her attacks, occasionally parrying an incoming blade. He made no attempt to counter-attack.

Angela spotted the grin and changed her attack instantly. In five seconds flat she had the half-breed lying on his back, a stupefied expression on his face as she gave him a jab in the ribs with the dull part of her bladed staff. "Don't get cocky, Mals. You did better, but you've still got a long ways to go before you're allowed to enjoy yourself during these training sessions." She said, smirking.

Mals smiled in return, heaving himself off the ground as he twirled his swords. The weapons sliced through the air cleanly. "I like this." He said simply, cutting through the air.

"You're definitely not the worst dual-sword user I've ever seen." Angela remarked. "I'd say after a few months of training we'll have you giving your own kind a run for their money."

A spark of hope flashed through Mals as he glanced up at Angela, suddenly ecstatic. "You're taking me to see the Elves?" he asked, biting his lip.

"Eventually." Angela said simply, nodding. "This is not exactly how you were supposed to be trained according to the Varden, but the second stage of your training always consisted of you going to the Elves."

"How was I supposed to be trained?" Mals asked, tilting his head. He constantly forgot that Angela was an associate of the Varden.

Angela gave him a smile and ruffled his hair playfully. "Can't say. It involves a great deal of secrets that simply aren't mine to give away. I imagine you'll be learning them soon, regardless."

Mals grumbled in annoyance and moved away. "Fine. But I expect to be made known of these secrets eventually. I'm not going to blindly fight a war."

"All in good time." Angela assured him, twirling her staff. "Now ready yourself. We've still got a good hour of daylight left."

They spent the remainder of the day sparring. Mals' newfound fighting style proved to be quite effective, and almost seemed to be designed to combat Angela's own style. Naturally, it was a purely offensive style of fighting, but Mals' speed and elven dexterity allowed him to retain enough defensive capability to defend himself. The only problem he could foresee was the usage of arrows on the battlefield. He could deflect slower arrows with no overwhelming effort, but anything that was enhanced by magic would slip past his defenses.

After the sun had set, they stopped their sparring. Mals was covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime, while Angela still seemed relatively refreshed.

The herbalist tossed Mals a couple books, as well as quills and a candle. "Here's some homework for the two of you. The larger of those books is a historical transcription of the known and confirmed history of Alagaesia." She said, pointing at the large book. "I want you to write me a brief time line of all important events from the four civilized races of Alagaesia. You need not write anything about Urgals."

Mals blinked and frowned at Angela. "Starting from how far back? You told me that Dwarves and Dragons have no written beginnings."

"You're right. They don't." Angela said, nodding. "Go ahead and give me everything starting from the first settlements of the Elves."

Mals felt his jaw go slack as he glanced at the massive book in his arms. "W-what? How am I supposed to decide what's important or not? I could spend the rest of my life writing this!" he cried.

Angela smirked at the boy. "You decide what's important. You can tell a lot about a person by what they consider to be historically significant. I don't need that any time soon, mind you. Just have it done within say… the next month." She concluded, nodding.

'_It will be good for us.' _Vivia said, nuzzling his side with her snout. '_It was one of your human scholars who said that if we do not remember the past, we are condemned to repeat it.' _It was clear that she was referring to the fall of the Riders.

Mals gave Angela a blank stare, grinding his teeth. Vivia's ability to undermine any and all of his objections never ceased to frustrate him. "Fine. But only because Vivia thinks it's a good idea." He grunted, turning around.

The herbalist nodded, smiling at the Ivory-colored dragon. "She's a very wise creature. Knowing your history is important!" she chirped, moving back into her aloof attitude.

Vivia hummed pleasantly as Mals jumped between her shoulders. Mals noted that he could no longer touch the ground without falling clear off of Vivia's shoulders. She was entering into another growth spurt. Who knows how large she'd be after this one finished?

The dragon flapped her wings experimentally before throwing herself into the air. Vivia angled her wings towards their new camp near Teirm. Minutes later the two of them settled down for the night.

* * *

The next month passed by like clockwork.

Each morning Mals would wake up, and after a short breakfast Vivia would fly them down to the section of secluded forest near the Spine. The day would start off with mental training for several hours. After Angela decided that he'd proved himself mentally for the day, they moved on to swordsmanship. Angela would use the remainder of the morning to show him various techniques, and then would dedicate the early to late afternoon perfecting those techniques in actual combat. After she felt that they'd accomplished enough in that regard, they ended the day with book work.

Mals' transformation over the month was surprising to everyone present. His naturally lean body began to fill out with muscles that he'd never used in his old life. His face became more gaunt and worn as the mental and physical exertions took their toll. The level of training he underwent daily would have incapacitated a human or dwarf.

His mental proficiency continued to escalate beyond any expectations Angela could have had for him. While he still didn't hold a candle to the herbalist, he could now hold off a dedicated attack from her for almost a full minute. In return, he felt her mind become more strained whenever it was his turn to attack her defenses. Occasionally Angela would even have him and Vivia combine their mental powers to test their full capacity against her, and she would sometimes have them fight each other with their minds.

The constant mental exercise caused their minds to become sharp and quick. Puzzles which would have once stumped Mals were now only a mild inconvenience. His reaction time increased steadily from the mental exertions, and this showed in his physical combat.

Mals' movements became lithe and graceful as his partially human body grew accustomed to the full usage of his elven speed and strength. On top of no longer losing his balance, he could now perform physical feats that even Angela could not duplicate. This gave him a massive advantage in their sparring, and it showed. Gradually over the duration of their training the herbalist had to apply more and more of her ingenuity to compete with the half-breed. At the end of the latest week of training, Mals had nearly decapitated the herbalist by accident. After that incident, she'd had Mals switch to wooden swords in their spars, since he still did not possess the mastery over his style to keep himself from injuring his teacher by accident.

Mals was not the only one making leaps and bounds in the training. Vivia had indeed gone through another growth spurt during the month. At roughly two months of age, the sparkling white dragon stood more than twice as tall as Mals. Her massive claws could uproot all but the largest trees in the section of forest they were nestled in, and her powerful wings could now carry Mals across any distance they had dared to try. To ease his pain while flying, Angela had given them a gift in the form of a modified horse's saddle that could accommodate a dragon. It sat somewhat awkwardly on Vivia's shoulders, and she would likely soon outgrow the straps that held it to her back, but it was perfect for what they needed it for.

Vivia snoozed contently in the shade of the forest as she digested her lunch of a small deer. Mals and Angela circled each other patiently, waiting for an opportune moment to strike out.

The half-breed took the initiative and burst forward in a flurry of movement. Angela raised her staff, and Mals smirked as he saw just the smallest sign of exertion appear on her impassive face. He ducked low, lashing out with his wooden practice swords in an attempt to catch her between the blades. Angela knocked aside the left blade and spun around the right as it passed by her. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance as the sword barely snagged the edge of her shirt for a moment before coming free.

Angela gave an uncharacteristic snarl as she counterattacked, lashing out in a flurry of expertly-executed jabs and slashes. Mals deftly weaved in and out of her attacks, slapping her staff to the side as he attempted to close the distance between them.

Vivia became roused by the sound of Angela's snarl and lifted her head, watching the fight sleepily. Next to her outstretched abdomen rested the Werecat Solembum. He yawned lazily and stretched, watching the spar as well.

Mals frowned in frustration as he attempted to get an edge in their spar. The herbalist held him at bay with unwavering expertise, though she could do little more than hold him at arm's length without him slipping through her defenses.

The spar escalated in intensity, and the wooden sides of Mals' swords groaned in protest as he swatted away the blade of the extended staff time and time again. Beads of sweat rolled down the foreheads of the two contestants as their motions became a blur. Though Angela's face remained calm and passive, Mals' frown continued to turn darker as the exertion of the day wore down his patience. This was the closest he'd ever come to landing a blow on his teacher, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.

His arms were a blur as they moved back and forth, batting away the staff time and again as it attempted to push him farther away from the herbalist. His arms began to grow tired from the non-stop movement, and he began to lose his footing. A smirk appeared on Angela's face as she sensed the subtle change in his demeanor. She pushed her advantage, though she seemed just as tired as him. Nevertheless, Mals got pushed back farther, and soon had to avoid Angela's aggressive stabs as she once again became comfortable enough to do more than defend.

In an act of frustration, Mals threw caution to the wind and lashed out with his mind. He pressed against the overwhelming consciousness of his teacher and began slamming his willpower against her mind. Angela froze as she felt his attack, and she gave him a confused stare. Inspired by her hesitation, he pressed the attack again, simultaneously fighting her with his mind and body.

Never before had his concentration been pushed to this extent. To attack with both his mind and body required a level of concentration that was frighteningly fragile. Even the slightest distraction could prove fatal to him at this point.

Even still, Angela had a much harder time keeping up this level of concentration than he did. Her concentration held for about half a minute before her footing slipped. Mals took advantage of the slip immediately and slammed against her mind one last time before dashing through her unbalanced defenses. Angela managed to get her footing just in time to freeze as she felt the wooden edge of Mals' blade against her exposed throat.

The herbalist stared at him with a befuddled expression, her breath coming out in labored gasps as she stood unmoving, processing what had just happened.

Mals let his arm drop from her neck as he fell backwards. He landed on the ground with a dull thud as his eyes shut. His chest heaved up and down from exhaustion as he strained to remain conscious. His head ached with every beat of his heart from the massive attack he'd just carried out.

All at once he heard a light-hearted laugh come from his teacher. Cracking open an eyelid, he stared in confusion as Angela laughed loudly, doubled over. "Oh, my! If that wasn't the most astounding thing I've ever seen…" she gasped, still laughing. "I can't say I've ever seen anyone do _that_ before."

"Say what, now?" Mals managed to croak out, groaning as he pushed himself up.

"Oh, what you just did." Angela said. "Only a handful of people are able to sustain the concentration necessary to fight with both the mind and body simultaneously. It's a very dangerous, but very effective way to fight."

Mals stared at her, processing what she'd said. "Huh. Why is it dangerous?"

"Because splitting your concentration between the two inevitably will weaken one or the other if you don't split them perfectly." Angela explained, gesturing towards his sword. "As you witnessed, it's easy to let your concentration slip on one, and that could easily cost you your life."

It made sense. Mals sighed as he rubbed his temple. He felt a gently rumble as Vivia snaked her large head over to him as gently nudged his arm comfortingly. He rubbed her snout in return, coughing slightly as he groaned.

"Nevertheless, I have never seen anyone do that without decades of training their mind." Angela stated, sitting on her favorite log. "It's a mystery, to be sure. It's one thing to be good at something, but this is something else entirely." The herbalist mumbled, leaning back.

"Could it be because I'm part Elf? Or a Rider?" Mals offered, resting against Vivia's outstretched neck. She hummed pleasantly from the contact.

"Who do you think I've been comparing you to? Only the Elf riders of the past have been able to do that. And even amongst them, only the very best of their order could do it for any length of time." Angela said, yawning. She stared at him with weary eyes, and for the first time, Mals got a glimpse past the cheerful façade Angela often wore. Hundreds of years of knowledge and pain stared back at him through her ancient eyes, before disappearing in an instant. Angela blinked and settled back into her usual cheery self. "Even still, I don't think this is a mystery we're going to solve any time soon." She muttered. The herbalist yawned slightly and stretched her sore muscles.

For a moment, the two sat in content silence, each mulling over their own thoughts.

"When were you born, Angela?" Mals asked, changing the topic rather abruptly. He felt Vivia glance up in interest beside him.

'_I'm not sure that's wise, Mals.'_ Vivia warned. Despite her warning, he could feel her interest in the subject as well.

Angela sighed and leaned back, staring up at the later afternoon sky. Once again he could see the ravages of time behind her eyes, and the weariness that lay there. It made him shiver to look at. "A long time ago." Angela answered cryptically, flashing him a grin. "You've been separated from civilization for who knows how long, so I'll excuse it this time, but it's generally considered rude to ask a woman her age." She continued, twirling her staff at him. "Ask again, and I'll cut off a finger."

Mals shivered, curling his fingers into a fist unconsciously as he nodded. If there was one thing he _did_ know about Angela, it was that she never made idle threats.

'_Told you so.'_ Vivia said, nudging him playfully as she hummed. '_I have a feeling that Angela has a great deal of secrets that we will never know the answer to. It's best just to accept that.'_

Mals sighed, nodding in response to both Angela and Vivia as he yawned, stretching. '_I suppose. It just makes it hard to trust her completely when she hides so much from us.'_

Angela sighed and stood up, stretching. "I think… we are at the point where we can stop training critically on your swordsmanship." She announced. "We will still spar, but you're at the point where you can't learn much more from me. You'll need to get further training in that regard from the Elves."

Mals eyes brightened as he felt suddenly rejuvenated. He stood up and nodded, bowing to her. "Will we spend more time on mental combat?" he asked tentatively.

The herbalist nodded in return. "Your training with me went faster than anticipated. Of course, I've never trained an elf before. I'd forgotten how prodigal you all are at anything physical." She added, rolling her shoulders. "I expected your sword training to take at least three months. Your innate skill in mental combat further expedited the process. This level of skill would have taken your average rider at least half a year." She finished, shaking her head. "It's unfortunate, but once the Varden hear of this they're going to want you taken to them right away."

Mals recoiled slightly at the thought. "I thought you said it was going to be years before I got tangled in their affairs." He said, suddenly very cautious.

"I thought it would be as well." Angela said, frowning. "However, I got a reply from the Varden in regards to you. I'd been curious as to how you came into possession of that egg in the first place, so I asked them about it. It turns out," she said, scowling somewhat, "that the courier safeguarding these eggs was ambushed and supposedly imprisoned. She barely managed to keep the eggs out of Galbatorix's greedy little fingers."

"With magic." Mals deduced, remembering the mysterious arrival of Vivia's egg. "But… why did she send it into the Spine? Wouldn't she send it to the Varden?"

Angela shrugged and sighed. "I'm waiting for a reply to those questions as we speak. If I had to make an educated guess… she was more concerned with keeping the eggs away from Galbatorix than sending them anywhere in particular." The herbalist said.

Mals shook his head, sighing. Of course, he didn't have nearly enough information to make an educated guess on the matter. Clearly there were still a few things that Angela was holding from him, but he'd learned long ago that he could not pry information from her without her consent.

'_I don't suppose you remember any of it, do you?'_ He asked jokingly to Vivia as he rested against her neck.

The dragon snorted in return. '_I'm afraid not. I remember choosing to hatch for you, but beyond that, my memory is very fuzzy inside my egg.'_

He hadn't expected much, but he sighed nonetheless. "So, when were you thinking of leaving for the Varden?" Mals questioned, stretching.

"Probably in about a month." Angela answered. The answer caught the boy off-guard.

"A month?!" Mals asked, panicking somewhat. "But that's so soon! How am I going to be ready to fight the Empire in a month?"

"You're not." Angela replied honestly, sighing in frustration. "Unfortunately, the Varden are in a really rough spot right now, and they need the morale boost of a Rider. I don't intend to involve you in any battles until you've completed your training… but anything could happen in the coming months."

Mals groaned in frustration, anxiety eating away at his mind. He didn't want to get thrown into a war. Not right now, anyways.

'_It will be okay, Mals.'_ Came Vivia's comforting thoughts. '_I don't wish to do this either, but we have an obligation to the people of this land. We have to fulfill our duty to the Riders of the past.'_

Mals grumbled stubbornly, but once against could not argue with Vivia. He mumbled a noise of acknowledgement to Angela. "I don't want to… but I suppose I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"We rarely do." Angela replied in her cryptic fashion, stretching. "Now, it's been a rough day. I'm going to cut our training session short for now. I have a few errands to run, so I'll be busy tomorrow. Just practice together." She said as she gathered up her pack and tossed it across her shoulders. "Just… stay nearby, okay? I've been hearing some unsettling rumors that I need to confirm, and I can't have you running around for now." Angela seemed a bit tense as she finished. Her brow was furrowed in a frowned.

Mals raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Yeah, sure. We'll just hang out at camp tomorrow." He wasn't sure what had put Angela so on edge, but he didn't really want to find out.

Angela nodded and turned away, heading back towards Teirm. Solembum nodded towards the two of them before following her, his tail swishing back and forth.

'_What do you suppose has Angela so wound up?'_ Mals asked Vivia as he walked back over to her. He gathered up his pack and supplies as he jumped up onto her broad shoulders. He readied himself in the saddle as he felt Vivia tense up in her usual fashion before she took off.

'_I can't say. However, I know that Angela does not worry over trivial matters.'_ Vivia responded as she launched herself into the air with her hind legs. Her wings flapped once and sent a tremor across the nearby trees as she shot into the air. '_I suggest that we be ready for anything. Angela can't protect us forever.'_

Mals nodded grimly as he clung to the large neck spike closest to him.

Unbeknownst to them, two silhouettes hovered above them. Two pairs of horrible wings flared against the setting sun as they propelled the mysterious winged beasts to the north.

* * *

**Yikes. So, this chapter took a while as well. On top of that, it didn't exactly come out as I'd originally wanted.**

**Anyways, the next chapter and the one after that will probably be similarly delayed. If Eragon doesn't arrive in Teirm next chapter, it will happen in the one afterwards. **

**As always, please read and review. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. **


	6. Chapter 5: Fugitives

**Well, as I was pondering how I was going to approach this chapter, I didn't realize that nearly a week had gone by. Sorry about that. I think I have a fairly good idea, now.**

**Chapter 5: Fugitives**

* * *

Mals had never considered a job as a sailor, but he could not deny that the ocean held a certain appeal to him.

Wind whipped past his trimmed hair as he held his arms out at either side of him. On either side of him, two massive wings pumped up and down. Mals and Vivia were gliding across the massive body of water to the west of Teirm. Mals had seen the ocean many times before, but he'd never actually had the chance to cross any part of it; boat or otherwise.

The sun was high in the sky as Mals took in a deep breath, sighing wistfully. It wasn't often that he and Vivia got a reprieve to simply enjoy themselves. In the last two weeks Angela had been very flighty in regards to their training. Mals had no clue what she was up to, but they'd only had training every other or every third day in the past weeks. A part of him wished that he could ignore the fact that Angela came back looking more worn and frustrated after each absence.

'_I worry for her.'_ Vivia stated, flaring her winds against a powerful updraft of air that carried her higher into the air. '_Something is wrong. Though you cannot see it, even Solembum is acting different.'_

Mals nodded, lying flat against Vivia's shoulders as he sighed, hugging her neck. '_I agree, but what can we do? You know as well as I do that Angela isn't going to tell us what she's up to.'_

Vivia rumbled in irritation, snorting out a cloud of smoke indignantly. '_I do not care. She needs to know that we know, and are willing to help.'_

The boy sighed, running his fingers along Vivia's scales. '_I'm sure she knows, Vivia. Whatever it is, it's something that she does not want us involved in. I think we should respect that.'_

'_And if it turns out to be something that costs her life?'_ Vivia responded coldly. '_What if our apathy costs us a teacher?'_

Mals snorted, rolling his eyes. '_Be serious, Vivia. Name one thing that Angela could not kill that we could. If Angela ever gets into that kind of trouble, she'll keep us out of it so that it costs one life instead of three.'_

'_Precisely.'_ Came the cold response.

The word bounced around Mals' mind for a minute, sending shivers down his spine. He couldn't deny that Vivia had a point; she usually did. '_Alright, alright. Let's head back to camp. I'll take a trip into Teirm and try and get some answers out of Angela, okay?'_

'_Fine.'_ Vivia said, angling back towards the distant coastline. '_Just know that I shall break down the very walls of that city if I feel you are in danger.'_

Mals rolled his eyes, patting Vivia's scales soothingly. '_Please, don't. At least give me a chance to get out of the city first, alright? Unless Galbatorix has Elves under his command, there are very few things that could actually harm me.'_ Mals said, albeit a bit smugly.

'_Undue arrogance will be one of those things.'_ Vivia retorted. She was flying low to the ground now, her body concealed from Teirm by a dense thicket of woods. Before long, they were gliding through the foothills of the Spine.

Mals chuckled, keeping his eyes peeled for their camp. '_Alright, fair enough. Just don't show yourself unless it's absolutely necessary. It is very unlikely that I will be in any actual danger that I can't escape from.'_ Mals said. It was not untrue, at any rate.

Vivia grunted an acknowledging noise. Mals saw her eyes narrow in suspicion as she looked dead ahead, towards their camp. '_Something is wrong. Our camp is not how we left it.'_

Mals frowned at that. Not how they'd left it? Could Angela have stopped by?

'_No… it's different.'_ Vivia said, arching her back as she slowed their flight. '_I see nothing else down there, so I will land. You may see for yourself.'_

A loud rumble ran through the ground as Vivia touched down. Immediately Mals slid off her shoulder. A grimace appeared on his face as he walked towards his camp, looking around. The ground was scorched black, and a rancid odor hung in the air. His tent, bedroll, and all other effects were similarly scorched. They also appeared to be blasted apart.

'_Is this dragon fire?'_ Mals asked Vivia. A deep worry began to gnaw at his stomach as he glanced around.

'_I… do not think so.'_ Vivia said, turning her nose up at the smell. '_This is evil and vile. I do not believe a dragon made this. I do not want to believe it.'_

Well, that was moderately comforting. Mals paced around his camp tentatively, looking for anything that could answer his many questions. The pieces of salted meat had grotesque boils and burns across them. They gave off a foul, rotten smell.

Next to the pile lay a mildly scorched burlap sack. Mals picked it up, squinting curiously as he noticed that the logo of the trader who had sold it to him had been ripped clean off.

An idea clicked in Mals' brain as he stared at the sack. Whoever had raided their camp had gone to town to track down the people he'd traded with. Through them, they could get a physical description of him. Teirm was a busy place, but the traders usually remembered repeat customers.

'_You are not going alone.'_ Vivia demanded, already guessing where his train of thought was going.

Mals burst into a jog, clambering over a large hill before sliding down a steep cliff. '_Angela will be in town. I will not be alone.'_ Mals said, his eyes narrowing. '_Do not follow me into town. Be nearby, but do not be seen.'_ He pleaded.

Vivia growled through their mental connection, but did not argue. She flew ahead of him swiftly, landing in a small mountain valley as she gestured towards her back. '_Get on. It'll take you too long to run there.'_

Without a word Mals jumped into the saddle that was resting on her back, lying flat against her back as he felt her take off. He could feel Vivia's overwhelming conflicting interests as she flew him closer to town. She did not want to fly him closer to danger, but she also didn't want to leave Angela alone with whatever had torched their camp.

'_Be safe. Please.'_ Vivia said as she landed in a small clump of trees just North-East of Teirm.

Mals smiled and hugged her snout as she leaned down. '_I will. I promise. I'm just going to find Angela, see what's going on, and ask her what we should do.'_ He promised, lightly patting her jaw. '_Stay close. I may need to leave in a hurry.'_

'_Always.'_ Said Vivia in return.

Mals broke into a dead sprint towards Teirm. It took him less than ten minutes to arrive at the front gates, where the guards failed to notice his arrival. As he approached, they jumped and bared their weapons at him.

Mals put his hands up defensively, showing he had no drawn weapon. "Peace. I mean no harm." He said warily.

The guards breathed a sigh of relief and lowered their weapons. "Oh, it's just you. Good. Sorry, you can go in."

"You guys are kind of jumpy today." Mals noted, walking past them. They didn't respond.

Mals swallowed nervously before lightly jogging through the gates. He remembered clearly where he'd bought the vegetables that had been in that burlap sack. It was a small cluster of trading posts down by the docks. The traders there were a tight-knit group, and would only give up their clients under the direst circumstances. The memory of his campsite put a knot in his stomach. He just hoped that they wouldn't be able to remember who they'd sold the bag to.

Mals avoided the crowded streets. He slipped in and out of dark alleyways, staying close to the shadows as he snuck around corners. Before long he arrived at the docks. In retrospect, he should have gone to Angela first, but this held precedence for him.

As he peered around a tall stone pillar, he saw several of the traders backed against their stalls. Looming over them was a pair of… figures. He couldn't see them clearly due to the black cloaks draped over them, covering their features. He noticed that they both stood awkwardly with a large bulge on their backs. A shiver ran down his spine as bits of the conversation drifted into his range of hearing.

"We grow impatient, human." said the tallest of the pair. A strange, rasping hiss accented its speech in a very peculiar way.

'_Human?'_ Mals thought curiously, fighting back a strange urge to flee. '_Why would it say that? Is it not human?'_

"D-do you know how many people we sell to each year? How could we possibly remember who we sold that particular bag to?" Came the frightened reply from one of the traders. Sweat dripped down his face as he looked desperately for an exit.

The taller figure hissed again, leaning in closer as its hand moved to a dagger at its side. "Think harder. Think as if your life depends on it…" It let the threat dangle in the air as it fiddled with the knife, pulling it out of its sheathe.

Mals felt his hand move to the swords at his belt, pulling them out slightly. Despite his irrational fear, he was also beginning to feel a massive urge to exterminate the figures in front of them. There was something innately vile about them that set his teeth on edge.

All at once he felt a hand on top of his, pushing his sword back into its scabbard, and another hand rest on his shoulder. He resisted the urge to whirl around as he stiffly glanced behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief as a grim-faced Angela met his gaze. She put a finger to her lips and gestured for him to follow.

Mals nodded and followed her without question. Part of him felt massively relieved to be moving away from the hooded figures. Something about them petrified him to his very core. As soon as they had gotten several blocks away, Angela turned around. "Are you mad?" she asked seriously, tapping his forehead. "Are you stark, raving mad? You nearly drew swords against two of Galbatorix's most faithful servants."

The boy blinked in surprise, wincing as he backed away. "How exactly was I supposed to know? I'm not the one that's been keeping all of their business for the past two weeks a complete secret!" he exclaimed, a bit louder than he'd intended.

His uncharacteristic outburst elicited a surprised expression from Angela, who raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that's fair." Angela replied, shrugging. "I didn't want you to get involved with this for reasons that I don't have time to explain." She said, looking rather somber. "I'm afraid that the cat's out of the bag, Mals. Well, so to speak. I never keep cats in bags. It's a figure of speech, you know." She rambled slightly, before turning serious. "I don't know how, but those two you saw there have learned about Vivia, and by extension, you. Galbatorix has officially started hunting you."

Mals frozen, his blood chilling to his core. "But… how? We've been so careful…" he mumbled, shaking slightly. "How do you even know they're here for me?"

Angela touched his shoulder soothingly. "How doesn't matter. We knew this would happen eventually, Mals. Galbatorix knows that at some point you were in Teirm." She said, before amending her statement. "Or at least, those two know. They are essentially Galbatorix's personal dragon hunters. If they don't find you now, they will return to Galbatorix, and before long the entire Imperial Army will be turning Teirm upside down." She concluded, nodding sadly. "You can't stay here."

"I-I could hide in the Spine with Vivia!" Mals scrambled, denial gripping him tightly as he bit his lip. "There's no reason to think he'll check there…"

Angela shook her head. "Galbatorix has sent his armies into the Spine for a lot less, Mals. If he has any reason to suspect that you're hiding there, he will comb the Spine until he finds you."

Mals slid down the wall of the alley, cradling his head in his hands as he processed the information. Angela stood there quietly, standing guard diligently. A few minutes of silence passed, in which Mals went over every possible scenario that he could think of. The result was the same in every one: he had to leave if he wanted to remain free.

"Where will we go? The Varden?" Mals asked after a moment, sighing. "And what are those things?"

Angela nodded curtly. "I've already sent a message to Ajihad, the current leader of the Varden. You will be expected in Surda. And those… things are called the Ra'zac." Angela did not seem inclined to discuss them any further. The disturbing image of the Ra'zac flashed through his mind again, sending shivers down Mals' spine.

"Surda?" Mals asked incredulously. "The Varden are hidden in Surda?" The thought that the single largest rebellion in the history of the Empire was stowed away in Surda of all places was a bit… discouraging.

"Partly." Angela responded cryptically. "I'm not going to tell you everything just yet. I'll fill you in completely in time."

Mals raised an eyebrow. "Are you not coming? You're in just as much danger here as I am, right?"

"Not entirely. Eventually Galbatorix will figure out that you had a teacher, but he doesn't know that yet." Angela said, holding her hand out to her student. Mals took it, allowing Angela to help him to his feet. "In any case… I feel like I need to stay here for now. I can't quite put my finger on it… but I still have business here. I'll join you before long." Angela assured, tapping her chin.

The boy nodded sharply. He'd long since gotten used to Angela's cryptic speeches. He was taken off-guard when the herbalist wrapped her arms around him, embracing him briefly.

"Be safe." Angela ordered, before plopping something wet into his open palm. Mals recoiled and looked down, raising an eyebrow. In his hand was… a toad's leg.

"… Why?" Mals asked in a confused manner, dangling the leg between his fingers.

"You'll figure it out eventually." Angela said, smirking at him. "In any case, you'd better get moving. Here, take this." She handed him a folded piece of paper. Upon unfolding it, Mals recognized a map of the western parts of Alagaesia. "Follow the coastline south and then east." Angela said, pointing to the capital of Surda. "Do not bring Vivia into the city. Have her hide around the more populated areas, and once you get south of the Spine, you may only want to fly at night." She said, sighing. "You'll be meeting with the King of Surda, who is working in conjunction with the Varden. You will then be escorted to the Varden's base of operations by an envoy."

Mals nodded, committing the information to memory. "Very well. When can I expect to see you again?" he asked, tilting his head. He realized grimly that Angela was his only friend, aside from Vivia. He wasn't eager to leave her behind.

"It shouldn't be any more than a few more months." Angela replied, nodding. "If anyone in the Varden gives you trouble, I'll sort them out when I arrive. And… be wary of twins." Angela said in her vague fashion.

Mals pondered her words as her turned around. Twins? Angela never made anything simple to decipher. As he glanced down, he froze as he saw Solembum sitting on the ground in front of him, looking at him intently. He felt Solembum's mind touch his, and resisted the urge to block out the contact.

'_Listen closely and I will tell you two things.'_ The werecat said, its eyes locked on him. Mals shivered from the very serious vibe he was giving off. '_When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seems lost, and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls.'_

The riddle bounced around Mals' mind, and his blood chilled from the inherent power of the names the werecat had spoken. Without another word, Solembum turned away and strode away, as if the exchange had never happened. Confused, Mals turned to Angela, who was regarding him with an equally serious expression.

Before he could speak, Angela cut him off. "Whatever he said was meant for you, and only you. Werecats rarely address someone in such a manner, and you would do well to not repeat those words lightly to anyone. If I was meant to hear it, he would have told me." Angela said. "Now, go. You need to leave before the Ra'zac find you. Go. Leave!" Angela said, ushering him out of the alley.

Mals didn't waste another second. Reaching out with his mind, he touched the mind of Vivia, who was where he had left her. As quick as he could, he ran through his memory of the last hour or so. Vivia sat there quietly, absorbing the information like a sponge. He could feel her bristling at the true name of the creatures that had attacked their camp.

'_I am ready to leave.'_ Vivia said as he finished his narration. '_I do not like the idea of running from them, but I see no other option at present.'_

Mals nodded and strode through the town. A growing anxiety began to gnaw at him, and he began looking around in a paranoid fashion. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the tail end of a cloak whipping just out of sight. On the edge of his range of hearing he heard a rasping hiss. Mals pace increased, bordering an inhuman level, though he did not care. The streets were nearly empty for some reason, and he could hear the clacking of the Ra'zac nearby.

Before he'd gotten halfway to the gate, the two figures stepped out from an alley in front of him, turning towards him. He kept his gaze level past them, striding confidently towards. He had no reason to believe that they'd identified him. An itching fear ate at his sanity, growing larger as he moved closer to the figures. He passed them confidently, flinching as an acrid mist came from the folds of their cloak, where their face would be. Mals moved through it, mostly unhindered.

The subtlest change in their stance gave away their intentions instantly. Faster than any human could hope to replicate, Mals drew his swords, parrying the dual strike from the two from behind. They hissed in unison and jumped back, obviously not expecting to be blocked. Their blades were long, thin leaf-bladed swords. The interaction drew several alarmed gasps from nearby civilians.

Mals dismissed the urge to attack them and bolted in the opposite direction. Throwing caution to the wind, he ran as fast as he could manage. He was a blur of speed, whipping through the streets of Teirm. He vaguely saw the two following him, and though they moved much faster than a human, Mals gradually gained ground on them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two forms fall from the sky and land around the corner, where the two figures had been. He felt Vivia's growing anxiety as he launched himself up onto a platform of low-lying buildings. With a quick leap, he scaled up and over the lower part of the wall of Teirm. He could still see the guards at the front gate not far from where he'd scaled the wall, and he really didn't want them seeing who the Ra'zac were chasing; more for their safety than his.

A horrifying shriek came from behind him, and the half-elf gaped as he watched two horrifying creatures fly upwards out of Teirm. They resembled a dragon in basic structure, except for the massive, 7-foot long beak that protruded out of its face, and the pupil-less eyes. It did not appear to have scales, which allowed its strong muscles to be exposed to the world. Each one of the two was slightly larger than Vivia. They attempted to shield themselves with their wings from the bright afternoon sun. Did sunlight hurt them?

Mals didn't have time to ponder it as they dived at him with speed that rivaled a dragon. He dashed as fast as he could in the opposite direction. His muscles tensed and contracted as he pushed his body to its limits, blurring across the fields surrounding Teirm as he raced towards Vivia. Unfortunately, even an elf could not outrace a dragon, or one of these new, twisted creatures.

The creatures closed in rapidly. What had started as a hundred foot lead shrank swiftly to seventy-five… fifty… thirty-five.

A frightening roar filled the air as a flash of white zoomed to his side. Mals leapt for joy as Vivia flew level to him, trying to keep herself airborne at such a low flight speed. '_Get on!'_ she cried, moving lower to the ground for him. He realized that she would not have time to land if they wished to escape.

Ahead of them, the land met the western ocean of Alagaesia at a large cliff face. Dozens of feet below, the waves lapped at the side of the cliff, further eroding the rock. The Ra'zac were nearly on top of them. Mals could see the leading beast reaching for Vivia's tail as it closed in on them. In a desperate move, Mals lashed out with his mind, trying to attack the four monstrosities. He was equally confused and interested to discover that he couldn't locate their minds. He felt the presence of their collective consciousness, but he couldn't touch it. It was like trying to catch smoke. The rapidly approaching cliff drew Mals' attention once again.

With a burst of strength, Mals took a running leap off the extended edge of the cliff. He reached out with a strained arm and barely managed to snag one of Vivia's neck spines between his fingers. A jolt of movement strained his already overexerted arm, and he glanced back to see that the Ra'zac had not yet gotten a hold of Vivia's tail. Rather, Vivia had folded her wings against her body, allowing them to free-fall towards the rapidly approaching ocean.

'_Hold on.'_ She said, as she straightened her body like an arrow. Mals watched in astonishment as they accelerated rapidly. He managed to grasp another neck spike with his free arm, giving him a stronger grip as he helplessly dangled in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them begin to outpace the flying horrors.

All of a sudden the Ra'zac gave up pursuit entirely. The large, winged beasts flared their wings and dug their claws into the cliff face. They shrieked as they eyed the waves lapping the cliff in an almost… fearful manner.

Vivia snapped her wings out suddenly, catching a gently updraft as she shot downwards. Mals jerked forward, and had to use every muscle in his arms to prevent himself from being impaled on the large neck spike that he was currently hanging on to for dear life. After several strained moments, she managed to level out, allowing Mals to scramble into the saddle.

Mals peered behind them as he settled in the saddle, holding tightly onto Vivia's neck spike. The Ra'zac had stopped following them entirely. They hovered on the coast, watching them intently.

'_We should go beyond their sight before heading south.'_ Mals concluded as he watched them. '_For whatever reason, they won't follow us over water.'_

Vivia hummed in agreement, but didn't vocalize it. Mals could sense her thoughts going over the large, winged creatures that they had encountered; namely, the resemblances to Dragons.

'_They can't be dragons, if that's what you're thinking.'_ Mals said, shivering as he pictured the foul creatures. '_They're similar… but not similar enough. They're no more a dragon than I am a Dwarf.'_

'_But what if Galbatorix managed to hatch some dragons and then corrupted them somehow?'_ Vivia asked, somewhat frantically. '_From what Angela told us, his own dragon is completely insane. Who's to say that he didn't… change the others?'_

Mals sighed, rubbing Vivia's neck soothingly. '_Put your worries aside. I am certain that they're not dragons, nor were they ever. They're an abomination of nature, plain and simple.'_

'_Perhaps you're right.'_ Vivia said, humming softly.

Mals could still feel the doubts within her mind, but he didn't prod about them. It was something that she would have to reconcile on her own. As he glanced back towards the shore, he gradually watched the coastline grow smaller and smaller. Before long, he couldn't make out the figures standing on the shore. '_Perhaps we should go out to sea until you can't see them.'_ Mals amended, sighing. '_You have sharper eyes than me, and we should assume that the things they were riding are similarly equipped.'_

Vivia said nothing, but accelerated their speed, riding the gentle updrafts whenever possible. '_Will she be alright?' _she asked after a period of silence. Her thoughts were of Angela, now.

'_Of course.'_ Mals assured her. '_Angela was gone long before the Ra'zac caught me trying to leave the city. They never saw her.'_ He was certain that Angela would not be linked back to his time in Teirm.

'_I hope so.'_ Vivia replied, growling. '_I'm growing tired of running and hiding, Mals. We need to get stronger so that we can protect each other, and those we care for.'_ Vivia said. '_I will not run from those monsters a second time.'_

'_Agreed.'_ Mals replied, patting her shoulder. '_Once we go to the elves, we'll complete our training. After that, I imagine we'll be quite the force to be reckoned with.'_

Vivia hummed happily at the thought. Mals watched her neck crane around and her eyes narrow towards the coast of Teirm. '_We're almost out of sight of the coast. I can no longer see the Ra'zac. Shall I head south now?'_

'_Yeah, I think that would be best.'_ Mals said. He hung onto Vivia's shoulder as she banked left, changing their direction towards the south-east. The boy grimaced as his stomach growled loudly. He'd skipped breakfast this morning in favor of spending time with Vivia. As he rummaged through the pack that rested on his shoulders, he groaned. They had no food, half a waterskin, his hunting knife, a pair of whetstones for his swords, the map, and a few other assorted supplies. Overall, they were painfully ill-prepared for this trip.

'_We'll need to stop for supplies.'_ Vivia stated. '_I could probably get enough food to feed both of us, but I can't get us fresh water.'_

Mals nodded, taking a swig from his waterskin to quench his parched lips. '_We'll be low on water for this trip, I'm afraid. How long can you go without water? I don't think I'll be able to sneak much out for you.'_

Vivia rumbled. '_Several days before the thirst begins to sap my energy. I will need to fill up on water before we near Surda.'_ Vivia replied.

The half-breed groaned. '_Well, let's hope we find a lake or something; or a boat carrying a lot of water. If we can't find any within two days, we'll need to head inland. I won't risk you dying of dehydration.'_

Vivia's great white head turned back towards him. Her pale-pink eye narrowed in an expression that somewhat resembled a smile as she blew a cloud of smoke at him. The warm air blanketed him in comfort before getting swept away.

Mals looked to his right. He sighed in annoyance as he saw the sun nearing the horizon. He knew that they couldn't stop tonight. It would stand to reason that if sunlight hurt the Ra'zac, their favored time to hunt would be during the night. They would have to fly straight through the night and stop for rest after sunrise.

The next few hours passed without incident. After the first hour, the sun had finally dipped behind the horizon. As soon as the last rays of light had disappeared, Mals had become ceaselessly vigilant for movement in the surrounding skies. His weary eyes also scanned the coastline which was now just within his range of vision. Occasionally his eyes spotted ships below them. Luckily, they were flying high enough that none of the men on board could possibly have spotted them. After the third hours, Mals spotted a rather large angular island below them. He recognized it on the map as 'Sharktooth.'

The cold night air battered them as they drifted through the low-hanging clouds. Mals clothes became more and more drenched, and the temperature continued to drop. Before long, Mals had to hug Vivia's scales for warmth. As often as she felt necessary, Vivia would arch her head back and blanket him in a cloud of smoke. It stung his eyes and nose, but it would instantly evaporate the biting chill that endlessly seeped into his limbs.

Mals could feel Vivia begin to strain her wings as the minutes turned into hours. Her muscles were tense and exhausted as she interminably flew onwards, battling gravity as fiercely as she could manage. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her chest heaved with heavy breaths as the hours continued to pass.

'_Just a little longer, Vivia.'_ Mals urged her, rubbing her neck. '_Sunrise can't be far off. You can start angling towards the shore, now.'_

Despite his urgings, Vivia toiled onwards throughout the lonely morning hours. Her wings locked up and glided as often as she could manage. Mals attempted to rub and massage her sore wings as best as he could whenever she would glide. Even if the difference was minor, he knew she appreciated the gesture.

Finally, Mals began to detect a faint glow on the eastern horizon. He smiled and alerted Vivia, who shared his mirth. The sunrise illuminated the southern range of the Spine, which jutted out into the ocean. On the other side of the mountain range, Mals could barely make out a large port-city. If his map was correct, they were approaching Kuasta.

'_Land in the Spine, Vivia.'_ Mals urged, lying flat on her shoulders in exhaustion. '_We'll rest through the morning, and then I will head into Kuasta for supplies. Maybe I'll even hear some interesting news.'_

Vivia acknowledged his words, but made no reply. Mals could sense that her mind was sluggish from the exertion of her flight. She was concerned with nothing more than sleeping.

They found a comfortable-looking valley amidst the mountain range. Within the valley, a large cave was nestled into the side of a mountain. Though it seemed to be long-abandoned, Mals could tell that it used to host a family of bears.

Vivia landed with none of her usual grace, inclining to simply crash into the ground with her legs, tearing massive trenches as she dragged herself to a stop. The dragon waited patiently as Mals slid off and unbuckled her saddle. He noted with annoyance that the leather was being rubbed down by her scales. She was already outgrowing the saddle, and it was going to break soon if he didn't have it replaced.

His partner snorted and collapsed inside of the cave, curling up comfortably as she lay on her side. She closed her eyes and lifted her wings expectantly, allowing him to lie by her side. Mals took her offer, and rested his back against her warm stomach. He sighed as the wing closed down around him, cutting him off from the outside world. Warmth consumed him and rejuvenated his chilled bones. Before long, he was deep within his dream trance – the closest he'd ever been to actually sleeping.

* * *

**Okay, so, I imagine that I probably turned some people away with this chapter. I admit, when I started this story, I wanted Eragon to meet Mals in Teirm. After putting up a few chapters, and thinking about it critically, I realized that I could not have Eragon meet Mals before he first encounters the Varden in the Beor Mountains. There are simply too many important plot events that occur when Eragon is by himself(Not counting Murtagh, obviously), such as the rescue of Arya.(Eragon's relationship with Murtagh also needs to remain unchanged.) Throwing another rider into the equation prior to the last few chapters of the first book would change the plot so radically that it would throw this whole story into disarray.**

**For that, I apologize.**

**At any rate, I hope you're still enjoying the story. Please read and review.**


	7. Chapter 6: Of Iron and Steel

**Well, here we are again. I'll try and get this chapter out a little faster, but no guarantees.**

**Also, on the topic of the Ra'zac. Originally I was going to have Mals' immunity to their breath be due to his elf heritage… but apparently due to their connections with dragons, Riders are also immune to the breath. I didn't actually realize this until I'd already written the segment, and I figured that I may as well leave it in. One way or the other, the Ra'zac were going to chase him.**

**Ultimately, I've been trying to leave the storyline mostly unchanged for now. Were we following Eragon, his journey would have been virtually identical at this point to canon. The Ra'zac wound up in Teirm on their return journey from Carvahall while being chased by Brom and Eragon. In the book, they met up with their parents before getting close to Teirm. Just instead of heading straight for Dras-Leona as they did in the book, I had them make a pit stop in Teirm.**

**My timeline is fairly diluted as it is, and it's only going to get foggier as we get deeper into the story… but at this point, Eragon and Brom should be about two weeks away from Teirm. Sapphira is a month and a half old- one month younger than Vivia.**

**I'd also like to point out that this chapter will involve knowledge in a profession that I have never, ever been involved in. There is almost a 100 percent chance that I'm going to be flat-out wrong, and anyone with any experience in this profession will likely spot the errors. I'd just like to ask that you let it go.**

**Chapter 6: Of Iron and Steel**

* * *

Mals peered down at the bustling city of Kuasta. It was a much larger city than Teirm, which was surprising considering its isolation from the rest of the Empire. As far as he was aware, the only two ways out of the city were the barges that transported goods and people, and the small road that went south from Kuasta, winding through the Spine, and exiting near Belatona . However, this road was almost certainly closed in the winters.

The boy was perched on a jutting rock that overlooked the city below. From here, he could silently observe the comings and goings of the civilians below. His sharp eyes observed subtleties that others would likely miss; such as civilians knocking on doorways three times before entering a room. It was a strange custom, to be sure. Then again, isolation almost inevitably bred intrigue.

Aside from the questionable customs, the city seemed welcoming enough. The guards appeared comfortable and relaxed, and the citizens talked freely in the streets. It was a very different vibe than what the Ra'zac's presence would allow.

The city had a massive trading port near the docks, and Mals could make out goods that many Teirm traders would have given their right arms to get a hold of. Exotic spices from distant lands, and rare antiquities permeated the market, giving off a very wealthy aura. Further inland, there were large clusters of industrial-style buildings, such as bakeries and blacksmiths. Plumes of smoke rolled from many of the chimneys in this section of the city. Mals unsheathed his sword, running his finger along the blade; it was sharp enough, but the metal was becoming weak and scarred from the months of use. They hadn't been particularly expensive swords to begin with, so he hadn't expected them to last long. This would be a good opportunity to replace them.

Mals rummaged through his sack and scooped up a handful of coins, calculating their worth in his head. He scowled as he realized that he simply wouldn't have the money to buy new swords as well as a saddle replacement for Vivia. He could probably recycle the leather used in her old saddle, but he'd still need to buy a new one for her. Unfortunately, that was a priority at the moment.

The boy sighed and sheathed his sword, before standing up. He did a quick stretch as he glanced over the bustling city. Teirm first and foremost had been a trading port. It had families and civilians obviously, but not to this extent. He could spot children running around, and young adults that were close to his age. All of his dealings in Teirm had been with adults who ran businesses and provided for their own families. He had never had the opportunity to interact with anyone his own age. The thought depressed him.

Checking to make sure that his headband was tightly secured to his head, Mals carefully strode down the cliff that led to the path he could take down to Kuasta. He was surprised to see that the city had no walls of its own. It used the natural fortifications that the Spine provided to its advantage. Were Mals not part Elf, he likely would have broken his neck several times over trying to get down the side of the cliff he'd scaled. An army would have massive casualties trying to get through it. There was a small gate near the road that led to the south, but it was surrounded by the steep cliffs on either side.

Mals strode towards the outskirts of the city. He tucked his hands into his pockets to warm them as he passed the first few buildings. Most of them seemed to be empty; a planned expansion of the city, perhaps? Before long, he was passing people as they wandered through the scattered buildings. Eventually the dirt under his feet became a cobbled street, announcing that he had entered the main area of the city.

As he passed through the moderately crowded streets, the Rider began to notice differences in behavior that he hadn't been able to spot from afar. Most noticeably, people exclusively led with their left foot doing almost everything. Whether it was entering a room, or climbing a staircase, they always put their left foot first. He also noticed that charms were a commodity, here. He could see baubles and antiques hanging from necks and above doorways; he couldn't help but raise an amused eyebrow at the whole display.

The boy decided that his first order of business would be getting Vivia's new saddle. He frowned as he realized that it may seem suspicious ordering such a large saddle. There weren't very many animals in Alagaesia large enough to use a saddle as big as he needed… but there were some. He supposed that he wouldn't actually need an overly large saddle, anyways. He'd just need enough leather to create a strap that encompassed Vivia's body.

There were quite a few leather workers in Kuasta. He questioned the civilians he passed by innocently enough, trying to discretely find out which of the leather workers had the poorest memory of past clients. He'd made this mistake once, and he didn't intend on falling for it again. After nearly half an hour of deliberation between an elderly couple, Mals was referenced to three leather workers of exceptional skill. Of the three, one of them spent much of his day drinking.

It was so convenient, Mals almost didn't go out of fear of an ambush. After watching the leather worker in question for the better part of an hour, Mals decided that it probably wasn't anything suspicious.

Mals quickly and quietly placed his order with the man. The leather worker, whose name was Faren, said that he could have the saddle ready in a flat twenty-four hours if Mals put down half of the money up front. Mals turned the proposal in his head a few times before agreeing. Even if the man ripped him off, he could simply steal that money back several times over. After going over the specifics of what was needed with the man, he was very glad that he was a little on the tipsy side. To a sober person, the request might have sounded rather odd, simply because of the amount of high-strength leather he required.

He quickly left afterwards; glad to be free of Faren's overwhelming odor of mead and whisky. As he weighed the coins he had left in his palm, he grimaced and tossed them back in his bag. He had just enough left to barter for a room at a scruffy inn.

Mals roamed the streets of Kuasta for an hour afterwards. His saddle wouldn't be done until tomorrow, and he had nothing to do until then. It was far too early to go rent out a room at an inn, and he couldn't afford any alcohol. The scent of fresh baked bread permeated the air as he passed several bakeries, causing his stomach to growl. Years of living off of salted meat made things like bread seem like a luxury.

He sat down near the bakeries, looking at the bread longingly. The bakery owner gave him a warning stare, flashing a rather sharp bread knife at him as he sliced the loaves. Mals rubbed his chin, realizing that he must look like quite the ruffian with his raggedy clothes and unshaved face. Being covered in dirt certainly wasn't doing him any favors.

A young woman stepped up to the bakery window, distracting the baker's murderous glares momentarily. Mals sighed wistfully as he stared up at the sky, watching the dark clouds overhead. It looked like it was going to rain later. The climate was so much different when you weren't actually in the Spine; if he didn't know better, he could have been convinced that it wasn't even winter. Of course, the thick layer of snow that lay across the lower parts of the spine put that thought to rest quickly enough.

A pair of footsteps approaching him distracted him. He went on guard, tensing internally without showing it outwardly. The overpowering smell of bread washed over him as the footsteps stopped. "Hey. You wanted some of this, right?" asked a light voice.

Mals tilted his head down as humans often did when they were brought out of their daydreams. He gave the young woman in front of him a confused stare as she held a piece of bread out to him. He could see that she was holding half of a loaf. He quickly took in her features, committing them to memory as he analyzed her attire. She had short, straight hair that almost reached her shoulders, and dark eyes that were only slightly contrasted by her tanned, soot-smudged skin. She wore a dark brown apron that was covered in soot and other black marks which he assumed were burns. She wore a pair of heavy boots, thick pants, and had a pair of smithy gloves stuffed in her back pocket. All in all, it was the strangest outfit he had ever seen a woman wearing; quite a petite woman, as well. She didn't seem to be much younger than him… perhaps a year younger.

"Ah… yeah." Mals replied, taking the slice of bread from her. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"I know." She replied curtly, watching expectantly as he began to eat the piece of bread. "I felt like doing it, though. You look like you're homeless, and homeless people need food much more than I do."

Mals couldn't help but feel slightly awkward as he nibbled on the piece of bread; he couldn't deny that the bread was excellent, though. "What if I made more money than you?" Mals questioned, trying to distract himself from the awkward feeling by playing a game of logic that he and Angela would often play.

"Well… if you made more money than I do, why don't you have a house?" the woman asked, playing along with his question. A hint of a smile played across her lips.

Mals smiled in return, finishing the piece of bread. "Maybe I just eat lots of food. Or have a gambling problem." He retorted, staring at her expectantly.

"Maybe… but you're pretty thin. You'd have to do a lot of exercise to work off enough food that would otherwise have paid for a house." She responded, tilting her head. Her smile grew wider as she continued. "And… you don't strike me as a gambler. Or at least, you don't strike me as a person who would lose a gamble. It's not really gambling if you never lose, is it?"

Mals chuckled, becoming more drawn into the conversation. "What if my profession includes lots of physical exertion? Like say… being the only female blacksmith in the history of the Empire?" Mals asked, raising an eyebrow.

The girl gave him a surprised glance for a moment, before looking down at her outfit and rolling her eyes. "I suppose it wasn't that hard to guess, was it?" she said, dusting off the apron.

Mals shook his head in an amused matter. Vaguely he could feel Vivia touching his mind, watching the conversation intently. He resisted the sudden urge to shut her out. He could feel her warnings even without her saying them. He was treading on very dangerous territory, and potentially endangering this woman's life.

The boy stood up abruptly, stretching. Just as he was about to announce his need to get going, he saw the girl's eyes dart to the swords that had been previously concealed by his shirt. "You're skilled with a blade?" she asked incredulously. She'd obviously not expected a random homeless kid to have a sword. Her eyes then saw the second sword on the opposite side of him. "You're skilled with two blades?" she asked even more incredulously.

"I suppose it depends on how you define skill." Mals replied vaguely. "I've only used swords for a few months."

"Mind if I take a look?" she asked, gesturing at the swords.

Mals tossed the thought around in his mind, overly aware of Vivia's attention being paid to the conversation, now. She remained quiet, but he could still feel her worry. "Sure." He finally answered, pulling his right sword from its sheathe and handing it to her.

The woman raised an eyebrow as she twirled the blade through the air with no lack of precision, running a finger along the blade. "Well, this is made of really low-quality iron." She mumbled, bending the blade. "The metal is starting to wear thin, and you wouldn't even be able to supplement it without shattering the entire blade."

She sliced it through the air experimentally, and sighed. "Well, you've kept it good and sharp, but this sword is on its deathbed. Given the similarities in the hilt, I'm assuming the other sword is from the same smith and is in similar condition." She said, handing the hilt of the sword back to him. "If I were you, I'd get those replaced. You do not want your sword breaking while you're using it."

Mals shrugged comically, sheathing his sword again. "Would if I could. I've already spent all of the money I have. The rest is going towards giving me a bed for tonight."

The girl stared at him critically for a few moments. Mals could virtually see the gears in her mind turning as she watched him. It made him monumentally uncomfortable. "What if I allowed you to work off your payments?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Payments… for a new pair of swords?" Mals asked, caught flat-footed by the question. Vivia's alarm was growing rapidly.

"And for a place to sleep." She added, nodding. "We… that is, my father and I built an extra guest house near our smithy. One of us would usually sleep there to keep an eye on the place during the nights." Her voice took a somber turn at the end. "If you need a place to sleep tomorrow, you can use it."

Mals nodded, turning the proposal over. If he was able to get a new pair of swords before heading to the Varden… that would be ideal. Mals suddenly noticed the rather sad look on the girl's face. He frowned, but didn't comment on it. He also didn't think he'd be here long enough to take her up on her offer to house him.

"That sounds fine." Mals said finally. "What kind of work will I be doing?"

The girl smiled lightly, before ushering him down the street. "Actually, the work you will be doing will be helping me make your swords." She said, nodding. "You see, steel production is not a one-person job. One person has to work the bellows, while the other tends to the molten iron. Otherwise the iron won't purify correctly, and you'll just get shoddy steel." She replied, walking down the cobbled streets, headed for a collection of soot-covered buildings down the road. "I can make iron myself just fine, but steel requires a second pair of hands…" she said.

"Doesn't your father help you?" Mals asked, jumping to the first logical response.

"He… passed away a couple of years ago." She said softly, not altering her pace.

Mals flinched internally, mentally berating himself for being so callous. Years of isolation had left him very obtuse in regards to normal human interaction. Angela was not a good standard to compare most humans to, for sure.

'_You shouldn't be doing this.'_ Vivia said suddenly. '_This is dangerous for you and her. What if the Ra'zac learn that you talked to her? They could torture or kill her for information, Mals!'_

"I'm so sorry." Mals replied, pushing Vivia's warning aside for the moment. "I didn't mean to be insensitive."

'_I need new weapons, Vivia. Besides, I'm being careful. So long as you aren't seen, there's no reason to believe that I'll be identified at all.'_ He replied in the calm parts of the verbal conversation, striding confidently behind the girl in front of him.

"It's fine." The girl replied, shaking her head. "I've had a lot of time to come to terms with it." He could see a light, bittersweet smile tugging at the sides of her cheeks.

'_Mals, I know you're eager to spend time with more of your kind, but this is madness!'_ Vivia urged. He could feel her worry washing over him. It caused him no small amount of guilt to cause her to worry like this, especially in such an unnecessary manner.

'_I'm sorry, Vivia. I need this.'_ He said after a moment. '_Would you give up an opportunity to spend time with another Dragon if we ran into one?'_ The boy knew his argument was faulty, but he didn't care.

Vivia's annoyance at his response stung as she retorted. '_Humans and Elves aren't on the verge of extinction, Mals. If you recall, we're on an important mission to meet with a large group of the-'_

Mals cut the mental connection, shielding his mind from the probe of Vivia's thoughts. His features darkened as he felt Vivia press against his mind, urging him to let her in. Nevertheless, he held his mind closed. He'd sacrificed any chance at normalcy to fight a war that he'd had little stake in up until recently. He was going to enjoy the small rays of light that his life would have while they lasted.

After several minutes of walking painfully slow, the girl led him to a small smithy on the edge of town. It wasn't anything fancy; simply a collection of anvils, a forge, a bloomery, and an assorted wall of smithing tools.

"This is all yours?" Mals asked, glancing around. He noticed a collection of blades lined up along the walls of the smithy. The iron was much cleaner, and appeared to be significantly stronger than the metal used in his own blades.

The girl nodded, before gesturing for him to follow her around the back of the smithy. "Before you help me make a pair of high-quality steel swords, I'm going to make sure you actually can use them. Otherwise I'll just have you work for a pair of iron blades."

"Oh, alright." Mals said, nodding. It made sense, at any rate. Steel was extremely expensive for use in equipment. The equipment made from it had an extremely long life of use, however.

"By the way, my name is Ashe." The girl said. "What should I call you?"

"Mals." He retorted simply. Ashe nodded politely and led him out to a field behind the smithy. She scooped up a pair of whittled wooden swords that were leaning against the building. With a quick motion, she peeled off her apron, boots, and gloves. She also pulled off the thick shirt that was protecting her arms. Underneath, she wore a light, modest tunic that reached her hips, but failed to cover her toned arms.

"Alright, Mals. Let's see if you've got what it takes to use one of my weapons." She said coyly, tossing one of the swords to him. "If you can last five minutes without me landing a hit on you, you can use the steel." She flicked the wooden sword through the air masterfully. It was clear that she'd had considerable training in the use of a blade. In terms of technical skill, she was very likely his superior.

"Sounds fair." Mals said, a light smile tugging at his lips. Technical mastery or not, no human could best an elf in a fight. It almost felt like cheating.

Without a warning, Ashe charged forward. Mals watched her with mild boredom as she jabbed out with her arm, aiming the point of her sword at his right side, which bore no sword. Mals leaned to the left lazily and lifted his arm, allowing the tip of the sword to pass harmlessly between his side and his elbow. Ashe blinked in surprised, but recovered quickly as she slashed diagonally at his right hip.

Mals spun around the blade with a bit of fancy footwork, allowing the blade to pass by his legs. The same befuddled look crossed Ashe's face.

Ashe lunged again, doing a quick series of jabs at Mals. The boy evaded each one with little effort, but made sure to only avoid them at the last second, and by mere inches. At most, it appeared that he was simply an extremely agile human. At random points he would flick aside her sword with his own, feigning an inability to dodge that particular strike.

Throughout the fight, Mals avoided Ashe's eyes. He constantly watched her arms and legs, so as to avoid giving away his lack of effort.

After over ten minutes of Ashe trying desperately to do so much as touch him, she called the process to a halt. "Okay, stop that! How am I supposed to get a read on your proficiency with a sword if you never use it!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Disarm me, or you don't get the sword." She finished, staring at him intently.

"Are you sure?" Mals asked, twirling his sword around. "You got pretty close to hitting me a few times, there."

The young woman scowled at him. "Yes. Disarm me, or no steel for you. And hurry up with it; I haven't got all day."

"Alright, alright." Mals said, completely ignoring her change of the original terms. "Why don't you attack me again, and I'll see if I can disarm you, okay?"

As before, Ashe gave no warning of her attack. With a speed that would have taken most humans by surprise, she dashed towards him, sword bared. Mals blocked her first strike, smacking it to the side lightly. Ashe backed away for a second before dashing back into the fight again. She jabbed and slashed at him with unerring precision. Each one was blocked and parried by Mals' sword, and he was sure that this would have been a very impressive display of skill were he a human. Nonetheless, Mals could not find an opportunity to disarm her without performing a stunt that no human could hope to accomplish.

Mals carefully directed Ashe in a circle as she slashed at him. With careful coordination he parried and blocked in such a way as to force her several feet in a wide circle from where they'd originally been. The sun was now directly behind Mals in the afternoon sky. Given that he was half a foot taller than her, his shadow rolled over her, protecting her from the bright rays of the sun. He carefully angled his head so that his shadow stayed across her face.

He found his opportunity when she lunged at him, sword aimed at his neck. Mals swiftly bent backwards, allowing the sword to pass over his chest. The bright afternoon sun hit Ashe square in the eyes, forcing her to squint and turn away. Mals took the opportunity to slip the blade of his sword underneath the hilt of hers and jerk it out of her hands. His arms moved much faster than a human could normally replicate. The boy caught the sword in his right hand with ease, and smirked at Ashe's dumbfounded expression as she turned back around, staring at the sword in his hand.

Her dumbfounded gaze quickly turned into an analytical stare as she glanced him over. Mals kept his face perfectly passive as he returned the stare in kind. He was moderately worried that she'd seen him disarm her.

An uncomfortable moment passed between them, and Mals opened up his mind again as he felt Vivia pressing against it. The dragon made no mention of his actions from earlier, but Mals was sure that he'd get an earful about it later. Nevertheless, he was more worried about their current predicament.

All of a sudden, the girl in front of him nodded and gestured for him to follow. Her stance was a little stiff, and she would periodically throw the boy curious glances as she made her way back to the smithy. Her face was also a bit flushed, though he suspected that was from the spar. He had a strong urge to reach out and touch her mind. If she suspected him, he'd know right away, though he risked the chance that she'd had training to protect her mind, in which case she'd know he was trying to access her thoughts.

'_Wait until after you've gotten your weapons.'_ Vivia said, weighing in on his dilemma. '_That way, at least we'll get something out of this ridiculous venture.'_ The sour tone in her voice was unmistakable, though Mals was relieved that she was still talking to him. He decided it would be best to agree with her.

Ashe led Mals back to the Smithy and over to a bloomery that was behind it. On the far side of the bloomery was a large set of bellows.

"Your job is simple." Ashe said, gesturing at the bellows. "You need to keep a constant, strong flow of air going into the bloomery. The more air the bloomery has in it, the better the steel is going to turn out. Got it?" she asked, tapping her foot.

Mals nodded in acknowledgement. "How long will I need to keep air flowing into it?"

"Until the steel is ready." Ashe replied. "It could take several hours, but after that, your job will be done. I'll shape and forge the metal tonight, and your swords will be ready in the morning."

"Sounds fair." Mals said, nodding. He could see that there was already a hot fire smoldering in the depths of the bloomery. The large hole in the front of the bloomery glowed brightly.

Ashe sighed and nodded, pointing at the bellows. "Alright, well I need to prepare the iron and charcoal. Start pumping air into the bloomery to get a feel for the bellows. Remember that a strong, steady flow of air is preferable over erratic bursts."

The half-elf tentatively put his hands on the upper handle of the large set of bellows. He began pulling down with a gentle tug, but quickly realized that he'd need to put more muscle into it. His arms strained a little as he pulled the handle clear down, causing a strong blast of air to flush into the bloomery. The coals glowed hotly as the air rushed into them, causing a large plume of smoke to rise from the top.

"That's good, just slow it down a little. Make it enough force to keep a strong flow of air through it. Use the majority of your strength for refilling the bellows with air on the rebound, Mals; that needs to be done quickly." Called Ashe from the other side of the bloomery. He could hear rustling, and what sounded like lumps of something falling into the bloomery. The fire roared around what he assumed was the charcoal.

Mals slowed down a little until he forced the remainder of the air from the bellows. With a heave, he pulled upwards on the handle. He could hear the high-pitched whistling of the air as it struggled to fill the vacuum inside the bellows as fast as he was pulling it up. It fascinated him that this was a job meant for a human. Though it was certainly within his limits, doing this for an extended period of time would likely exert him. He began to develop a newfound respect for human blacksmiths.

A gasp of surprise came from the other side of the bloomery as he began pressing down again. "Wow, that's really good, Mals! Remember to pace yourself, though. You've got several hours of this."

Mals smiled at the compliment, as meaningless as it was to him. He couldn't deny that he'd rather enjoyed the social interactions of the past hour. Ashe was, he suspected, an exceptionally generous individual. He'd done plenty of trading in the past, and nothing that he'd given the girl was even remotely worth two swords made of steel. Maybe the simple opportunity to make the steel was payment enough for her.

"Do you buy all of your iron?" Mals asked as he pulled the bellows up again.

Ashe gave a groan of exertion as she tossed something into the bloomery. "Yeah. I buy the iron in small amounts from the local mines, and then sell the swords for more than I paid for the iron. Most of the profit is used to maintain tools and buy fuel, but I make enough to live comfortably." She replied, chucking another lump of something into the fiery pit. Dark smoke began to rise from the top of the bloomery.

"Who buys your swords?" Mals asked tentatively as he forced another gust of air into the bloomery.

"Oh, all kinds of people. I make some of the best iron in Kuasta, so my wares often go to the palace guards, and are occasionally bought by the sea traders and exported to other cities." Came the curt reply.

Mals sighed in relief. Even if some of her swords went to the Empire, he was relieved that she didn't directly support it. "You're awfully young to have so much skill." Mals commented truthfully. He couldn't help but be somewhat envious.

"I have my father to thank for that." Ashe said. Mals couldn't read her facial expression from his position, but he could hear a slight hesitation in her words. "He was hands-down the best smith in Kuasta. Maybe even the Empire. He taught me all of his tricks and tips to making good metal."

Mals didn't know much about professions, but he did know that family secrets were a powerful key to a tradesman's success. "He sounds like a good man." Mals said quietly; he have to tread carefully here.

"He was the best." Ashe said wistfully.

A deep silence pervaded between them after that. Mals was left to his thoughts, which were occupied largely by Vivia. Though the dragon still didn't trust Ashe, she couldn't argue that it was unlikely that the girl was looking for an opportunity to harm him. She did, however, force Mals to promise that he would leave the next day. As much as Mals wanted to stay in Kuasta, he admitted that he couldn't stay any longer than a day.

The day lingered on as Mals tirelessly worked the bellows. He could hear various sounds coming from the opposing side of the bloomery, but he couldn't make out what they were. Occasionally groans of exertion or gasps of pain would follow the strange noises. The smoke continued to grow darker, and before long it blended in seamlessly with the darkening evening sky. The sun was just below the horizon, and the largest source of light was the pool of light emanating from the inside of the fiery bloomery.

Before long, Ashe appeared from the opposite side of the Bloomery. She was drenched in sweat and soot, and she appeared to be exhausted. "Okay, Mals. You're done. You did a very good job, and I'm honestly surprised you were able to keep that up."

Mals feigned exhaustion as best as he could, nodding slowly. "Not a problem. Do you need any more help?" he asked tentatively.

Ashe shook her head. "No, the rest is for me to do alone. It involves a lot of those tips and tricks I was talking about. You did a great job, though. We got exactly the kind of iron I needed to make your steel." She said vaguely, smiling. "Now, get out of here. I need to tend to this stuff before it cools."

Mals chuckled and nodded, before turning towards town. He was moderately interested in the process of turning molten iron into steel, but he decided that it wasn't knowledge that he desperately needed. He'd swing by the smithy early in the morning after he collected his saddle.

He strolled through the dark streets of Kuasta. The city took on a sinister tone under the cover of darkness, and his footsteps echoed eerily down the empty cobble streets. After a few minutes of retracing his steps, he ended up on the doorway of one of the cheaper Inns he'd located earlier in the day: The Weathered Rock.

He tentatively slipped into the Inn, which was bustling with a large group of traders and sailors. All of the men were very toned and jaded from their sea-faring lifestyle. Thankfully, the Inn was loud and rambunctious, allowing Mals to quietly slip in and grab a seat at the bar. He didn't intend to drink tonight; he merely wanted to listen to the news of the world. Since Kuasta was a trading port, it would likely have a great deal of interesting traders swapping tales.

He felt Vivia touch his mind delicately. She still seemed to be in a foul mood from earlier, but her anger had receded somewhat. Rather than talk to him, she seemed to be more interested in listening to the gossip of the inn with him. He felt their minds begin to mesh together as they occasionally did, to the point where Mals shared Vivia's sensory perception, and vice versa. Vivia's eyes were closed, but he could tell that she was still in the same area that he'd left this morning.

He sat there silently, absorbing the casually-spoken words that floated across the rowdy Inn. Alcohol had the interesting effect of causing loose lips, and Mals had taken advantage of such an effect more than once before.

The Traders, it seemed, had just arrived from Feinster. If their wild tales were to be believed, they had been delayed by the unusually harsh winter to the north, as well as the Urgals that had been seen across the plains of the Empire.

A hushed whispering on the far side of the bar caught Mals' attention. He was sure it was Vivia's doing, as he didn't believe he could hear quite this proficiently. "… so there I was peddling my wares up in Carvahall, right? All of a sudden, this old man and this kid pull me aside, telling me they've got something valuable to show me." Came the silky voice of a skilled tradesman.

"We go back into my tent, and the kid puts a giant blue stone made out of some godly-strong material. This rock is easily bigger then my head, and he wants to sell it!" the man exclaimed in hushed tones. "The old man says that he doesn't know what it's worth, so I do a quick examination of it. The only thing I could even figure out is that it was made of a material tougher than any rock or metal I'd ever seen, and that it was hollow!"

"That sounds like a giant load of horse droppings." Said a slightly more intoxicated man across the table from the original speaker. "What kind of a fool do you take me for, Merlock? Your tales get more fantastic every year. I'm beginning to wonder if you're even making up this nonsense about the Urgals."

'_You don't think…'_ Mals questioned, his heartbeat speeding up. He'd encountered exactly one thing in his life that matched a description like that.

'_Unlikely, but possible.'_ Vivia responded. He could tell that she was equally excited. '_Where is this Carvahall at?'_

Mals pulled out his map, glancing at it critically before spotting a small village at the northern edge of the Spine. '_Oh, great. It's even farther north than Teirm.'_ He said in disappointment. '_You don't suppose…'_

'_Absolutely not.'_ Vivia said, guessing what he was going to suggest. '_Your antics with the smithy-girl have cost us enough time already, Mals. As much as it makes my heart ache, we have a duty to Angela. We need to go to the Varden.'_

'_The Varden!'_ Mals exclaimed, his eyes widening. '_Do you suppose they know about this?'_

'_We don't even know if we know about this, Mals.'_ Vivia retorted. '_Traders are known to make wild exaggerations. This could be complete nonsense.'_

'_Nevertheless, it would be our duty to report our findings to the Varden when we get there. Speculation or not, something like this is far too important to leave covered up.'_ Mals said, stretching somewhat.

Vivia seemed to agree with that, at least.

Mals sat in the dank, rotten inn for another hour as he listened to the trader's conversations. The man was obviously highly intoxicated, and after a half hour he was spinning a wild tale about an Urgal that was over eight feet tall and could outrun a horse. What a load of nonsense. Mals frowned and glowered, wondering if the man really had been making up the story.

The trader eventually got up to leave, piquing Mals' interest. '_Should I follow him? He might know more.'_

'_You've only got a few hours of night left, Mals. You need to rest so that you aren't waking up at midmorning like yesterday.'_ Vivia responded. He could sense that she was getting tired. '_Besides, I'm fairly sure that this Merlock has revealed every secret he had already. I pity the man who confides in him.'_

As the man walked by Mals' stool, the boy made an impulsive decision. Reaching out with his mind, he easily slipped into the trader's intoxicated consciousness. He didn't dare stay long, but he lingered long enough to get a look at two clear images.

The first was of a much younger boy than he and an older man standing side by side. The elder of the two had a very scrawny frame, a lean face, and intense eyes that sat below a mess of graying hair. The younger boy appeared to be much younger, perhaps fifteen. He was average in height for his age, had brown eyes and hair, and had a slim build like the older man.

The second picture was of a radiant, massive stone that sat on top of a large table. It glowed in the dim lantern-light, and was the richest shade of blue that Mals had ever seen. There were creamy-white lines that ran through the rich blue hue like tiny spider webs.

He quickly retreated out of the man's consciousness before Merlock became aware of the intrusion. The man in question stumbled slightly, but continued out the door unhindered. Mals sat at his table in shock as he let the pictures rest clear as crystal in his mind. Vivia was speechless as well as she absorbed the information.

There were many things in their life that were currently unknown and vague. One thing that they knew for certain is that there was another dragon egg free in the world.

* * *

**Alright, this feels like a good place to stop the chapter. **

**So, I did a lot with this chapter; much of which was actually unintended at the start. I didn't intend for Mals to spend quite so much time in Kuasta, but here we are.**

**Anyways, next chapter Mals will be leaving Kuasta and headed straight for Surda. I'll probably do a bit of a time-skip over this period, and I imagine the trip won't take more than a week at most.**

**I apologize for the long wait on this chapter. I just wasn't quite sure how to get everything smoothed over at the end. I actually had this chapter finished for almost 2 days before I decided to post it. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to post it quite yet. As always, read and review.**


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